


Of Demonic Entanglement

by MissOverlord



Category: Puyo Puyo (Video Games)
Genre: Anxiety, Denial, Eventual Romance, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Pining, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-25
Updated: 2020-09-29
Packaged: 2021-01-03 08:21:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 26
Words: 37,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21176339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissOverlord/pseuds/MissOverlord
Summary: What starts as a simple assignment winds up more complicated than Klug ever could've anticipated.Troubled by the potential worsening of his condition, Sig reluctantly accepts Klug's offer of aid. However, a certain shouty book-bound demon's soul is very, very displeased at having the cyan-haired bug catcher around. Why?





	1. Doodlebug

**Author's Note:**

> This is set roughly two to three years after the events of Fever 2, assumes that most of the games are canon and the characterization tries to be closer to the Japanese stuff. This is especially obvious with Sig, whose manner of speaking is... different.
> 
> I'm not an accomplished author and this was intended as a basis for an illustrated thing eventually, but things got super out of hand! Please forgive poor tagging because fics are not a thing I have done.
> 
> Suggestions are welcome and I apologize in advance for some really, really odd word choices. Somnolist isn't in the dictionary, but...

Collaboration. Working with others. _ Pairs assignment_.

It just _ had _ to be, hadn't it? It would've been simpler alone. Hell, he'd probably at least have an outline done by now. Sure, the properties of botany in magic wasn't his expertise, so he'd have no expectation of being done in an hour. If it were astronomy in magic...

Klug thumbed through the index of his current volume, perched as it was on three further tomes. Researching in the library was convenient, if distracting. He'd already found a few unrelated texts that he'd shoved off to the side, squirreling them away to digest in his leisure.

... Well, that assumed he'd even_ have _leisure time. Klug had been consciously avoiding glancing across the vast, book-littered expanse of a table. Every time he considered it, he figured he'd be better off not knowing how far behind his partner was.

It wasn't that Sig was stupid, but Sig was, well,_ Sig. _Distractable under the best circumstances, unreachable under the worst. This day didn't seem to be the greatest one. The books on the boy's side of the table rested blissfully untouched. Unopened. For. An. Hour.

All the bug catcher had to show for the time was a few crude sketches, insects of some kind of another. Considering they were drawn with Sig's over-large crimson left hand, that they were recognizable was a small miracle. Head propped up on his normal right hand, the entomophile just kept deliberately putting pencil to paper.

Klug needlessly adjusted his glasses. There was something odd about the way his so-called partner stared down at the sheet with his mismatched eyes. An intensity dwelled that was normally absent. It was... unnerving.

"_Sig_," Klug intoned with a feigned sense of calm, "something's bothering you. We've been here for over an hour and your pages are still blank apart from those doodles."

"Oh," the wanna-be entomologist straightened in his seat, exhaling a breath he hadn't been aware of holding in. He mumbled noncommittally, slumping back before apologizing in his usual dull monotone.

Or was it? Klug couldn't be sure if he was just projecting or if there was genuine tension there. Shifting and adjusting his glasses for a second time, he lifted an eyebrow. "I've never seen you this distracted. You're stressed about something."

Sig's hair-tenne twitched. Even if his impassive expression rarely changed, that tic betrayed his thoughts. Happiness, disappointment, anything outside of his normal routine elicited some type of movement. Though he was already sagging in his chair, somehow Sig managed to sink down further.

A thought occurred to the bespectacled one. Observations were one of his fortes but sometimes they were... unwelcome. He became suddenly defensive, straightening and clearing his throat. "E-everyone deals with stress differently, you know. Raffina trains more aggressively than normal, Amitie becomes more outwardly cheerful, Taru Taru clams up entirely..."

"You?"

"Me? I... I find somewhere quiet and read. Or double-check my work... sometimes triple." The academic knew it sounded cliche, but it was what it was. "I need something to keep me busy."

A slow blink, and the faintest hint of a smile. "Quadruple?" Sig held the 'a' longer than necessary. It would've been charming if it wasn't so infuriating to his target.

Klug stiffened his upper lip, his cheeks flushing from the question. It was true. Of course it was. To admit it, though... "tch! Yes, yes, but almost never!_ Rarely _ ! But that's not the point! I wanted to know why _ you're _ stressed."

One blue and one red eye barely peeked over the table's edge. How is it possible to slump that much and not slip from your seat?

"Dunno."

Klug tried to contain his exasperation, steepling his fingers and resting his forehead against them. Stay calm, eventually all the non-answers will yield something useful, he thought. Something to work with. Statistically speaking it had to.

"That's obviously not true. _ Look _," hissed Klug, "let's try something else. Is it school related?"

A shake of the head. Issues with friends? Nada. Problems at home? A slight hesitation to think, then negatory. Now all that was visible of Sig was his hair.

"Is it me?"

"No."

This was going nowhere. Fingers drumming against wood, Klug gave up. "Come back up, I'll stop asking. There's no point to sitting on the floor."

Eight digits clung to the edge as the Doodlebug pulled himself up from the carpeted library floor. Four fingertips, perfectly normal, but the other four... no. It was too obvious. Besides, Sig always said it was_ fine_. He was used to it. He was...

"It's the arm, isn't it?"

_ Twitch_. The mismatched hands disappeared as their owner once again retreated.

_ Bingo_. Sort of. The cause was known, but what to do about it was another thing entirely. Scanning his surroundings to ensure no witnesses were present, Klug scooted off of his chair and sat down cross-legged on the floor beneath the table. There was no way he’d risk raising his voice in the museum library. He’d rather throw his sense of pride under the metaphorical carriage than chance a reprimand, or, _ stars forbid _, a ban. Just the prospect brought him out in a cold sweat…

Arms wrapped around his knees, Sig barely glanced in Klug’s direction. He didn’t seem too put out by having his refuge invaded. “You okay? You’re all pink.”

Klug blinked, roused from his reverie of doom. It was impossible to verify but he trusted his classmate’s appraisal was genuine. His general lack of color made any degree flushing incredibly obvious, much to his chagrin.

“I’m perfectly fine. Sitting on the floors of libraries is one of my all-time favorite activities,” he mumbled, adjusting his cravat. Subtext tended to be lost on Sig. Attempting to let go of his annoyance, the bibliophile tried to resume his original line of questioning.

“The arm, does it feel ‘weird’ again?” It was a legitimate enough query, it was fairly common knowledge that the blue-haired boy’s odd arm acted up intermittently. Sometimes it was a mild to total loss of sensation, other times it seized and became all but useless. The pity of it was, the poor guy was left-handed.

“No.” A simple, flat denial. Sig’s already half-lidded eyes narrowed. While little of his eyes were visible from behind his folded knees, their look was unmistakable._ Don’t want to talk about it, stop asking and leave me alone. _

He felt… uncomfortable. Normally Klug wouldn’t have pushed even this far. Any confrontation he wasn’t confident of winning wasn’t worth having. This felt far from an assured victory. He didn’t want to do this. It’d be easier just to do all the work himself. _ Simpler_. Maybe not fair, but…

…No.

That wouldn’t solve anything. It was a _ pairs _ assignment. By design, it was meant to encourage cooperation. Failing that aspect, everything else was pointless. Getting through to this living cabbage was part of, nay, _ it was _the challenge.

“Ignoring the problem isn’t going to solve anything. You can’t ignore me, either,” the bookworm crossed his arms, exuding _ way _ more confidence than he actually felt, “keeping it bottled up won’t hel-”

“_Fine_,” Sig abruptly cut in, a slight quaver in his voice, “just… scared.”

Silence. The academic’s mouth had simply stopped moving mid-syllable. Fish-like, it hung open as its owner mentally scrambled to make sense of those three little words. He stared without meaning to.

Sig shrunk down further, burying his face in his arms._ This _ kind of reaction was why he didn’t want to say anything. Now _ everything _ was awkward. The points of his clawed left hand poked into his right arm as he tried to curl into an even tighter ball. Any discomfort or pain was irrelevant.

Klug panicked. He never anticipated that kind of meltdown. Calming other people down had never been a skill he possessed, how the_ heck _ was he supposed to deal with someone that he upset? _ Stars above, how can I fix this _?! He screamed inside, floundering for a solution he just didn’t have.

Where the thought of scooting alongside the pitiable cyan-topped ball came from, he wasn’t sure. Probably some half-forgotten childhood memory from a time when his parents were usually around. When he was hurt, when he was scared, a hug or a pat on the back had gone a long way. Hugging Sig was out of the question, but… well…

Hesitantly, as though his classmate would shatter like glass if he were careless, Klug reached out. It took a few seconds for a palm’s weight to register with the bug boy, eliciting that peculiar tuft of blue hair to twitch. Otherwise, nothing happened.

Clearing his throat, he of the purple cap scrambled for the 'right’ words. “I’m… sorry. This is my fault for being pushy.”

The sound of his own voice made him cringe. That was the_ best _ he could do? How many hours had he spent absorbed in dictionaries or a good thesaurus? However sincere, the triteness appalled him. It sounded so _ cliche. _

Movement. One blue eye peaked out from the protective cocoon Sig had wrapped himself in. “Really?”

Was it a question or an accusation?_ Question _, Klug settled on. Anything else would risk escalation. It was the last thing he wanted right now.

“Really,” he nodded in confirmation, hand still resting on the other boy’s shoulder, “would it be alright, well, what I mean is... what's wrong with it?”

“... Want to know?”

“O-only if it’s okay, you’re okay, I mean-” He broke into impotent stammering, not wanting to make Sig more uncomfortable, but his curiosity threatened to kill him if he didn’t at least try to find out.

Gradually, Sig unwrapped himself from his compressed state, murmuring something as he stretched out his arms and legs. He seemed back to his casual self, apart from the furrowed brow.

“Fine, here.” Sig’s left hand tugged at his shirt collar, stretching the material a bit. It didn’t expose much, but it was hopefully enough to get his point across.

Klug frowned, not entirely sure what he was supposed to be seeing. Most of the skin looked perfectly normal, as far as he knew. All that really stood out was the border where the left arm joined the torso. The rough-looking reddish dermis would look out of place on anyone else, but this was Sig. Wasn’t it always that way?

“Well?” Sig’s head tilted expectantly. He definitely wanted an opinion on something. A minute passed. Two. No response came. Letting go of the shirt’s collar and smoothing the fabric back down, Sig continued to stare patiently at his silent green-eyed classmate.

"It looks... normal? I don't have a point of comparison." Come to think of it, he could only recall seeing Sig in short or long-sleeves, never anything less.

"Oh. Guess that's true," the bug catcher sighed, leaning into the hand which still remained on his shoulder, "sorry."

Stars. _ Stars _ , he'd forgotten his hand was there. He couldn't just take it back _ now_. Better to let his friend rest against it, especially since Klug felt less than helpful right now. They were friends, right? Kind of? He didn't care for the silly nicknames, but...

Something closed over his hand. Something warm, rough, and red. The grip was firmly insistent. If Klug tried to retreat he'd risk being scratched. Two eyes stared at him from behind carelessly swept bangs.

"Can't tell anybody, okay? Promise."

Since the matter had something to do with the mismatched arm, Klug nodded in agreement. It could probably be kept in confidence. He'd seen no sign of injuries on Sig's chest, self-inflicted or otherwise, so he felt safe in his decision. "Promise. It won't go beyond me."

The sense of relief was instantaneous and palpable. Whether it would last, none could say. The grip on Klug's hand remained, but loosened considerably.

Inhaling deeply, Sig rapidly rattled off his consternating thoughts. "Worried that the red stuff is spreading, getting worse. One hand's fine, can get by with just one. Both, though," he shook his head, a small whine escaping his throat, "scared. I don't want that."

_ That _ certainly caught Klug's attention. Sig almost never referred to himself directly. 'Me', sometimes, but an 'I' was exceedingly rare. He felt a peculiar weight against his body as his classmate sagged against him, staring despondently into the middle distance.

"You've tried asking Professor Accord about it?"

The set of hair-tenne twitched as their owner mumbled, "last time she said to use the other hand."

"Lemres?"

"Didn't know anything." At least that's what the Comet Warlock _ claimed, _but the truth was a mystery.

If Klug hadn't considered assisting his classmate before, that would have done it. An opportunity to surpass his idol didn't come along every day. Figuring out something that stymied even _ Lemres _ couldn't wasn't his _ goal _, but it would be icing on the cake.

"... Kinda dumb, huh? Shouldn't worry about it, but can't help-"

The sentence was cut off before completion. _ Stella lucet _ , if this wasn't the appropriate time to hug a distressed peer, a _ friend _, Klug didn't think there would ever be one. He didn't exactly have the best angle, but he managed to get his arms around Sig's chest. While it looked similar to picking up a particularly stubborn cat, it felt... necessary. "Sig, it's not dumb. Not even a little."

Sig heard, but didn't reply. This embrace hadn’t been anticipated and he wasn't quite sure what to make of it. Yes, he'd been leaning into Klug for support. He'd been hugged before, mostly by Amitie, but that was her normal. Nice, but common. This was different. For now, in this time of uncertainty, it felt okay just to accept it.

The novice dark mage was so, _ so _ relieved that Sig hadn’t yet tried to squirm free. It would've been incredibly awkward. It would mean he'd _ completely _ failed to read and respond to the situation. Maybe it was time to let go. Probably. _ Definitely_. He cautiously made to remove his arms.

"Don't," The bug catcher curled his fist around a sleeve of the dress shirt, then quietly added, "um, please?"

Both Klug's body and mind instantly froze. _ What am I doing?! _ He inwardly screeched. _ And why am I so tense?! _It took all of his concentration just to meekly stammer out, "um, o-okay."

"Yay," the low-key voice was at odds with the small but genuine smile that graced Sig's face. He looked so innocent, happily oblivious to his classmate's internal meltdown. "Huh... you smell like soap."

It was an accurate observation but that couldn't keep Klug's cheeks from flushing crimson, his lips drawn into a perfect horizontal line. However unorthodox, it _ was _ a compliment and it _ was _ 100% true... right? He remained silent, second-guessing himself. Not everyone liked the same _ kind _ of soap, or for that matter-

The indecision worked out fine for Sig, it provided more time for him to relax. Anxiety over the arm situation had been steadily building for... awhile. Ignoring it only worked for so long. Being forced into a corner and made to acknowledge those worries he'd tried to push away hurt. It validated them. Made them real. Sharing them didn't _ fix _ anything, but it did help. Kind of.

"T-thanks?" It had taken time to process, but the celestial mage had finally decided the innocuous comment _ was _ a positive one. Nailing down the cause of his nervousness remained elusive. He cleared his throat, trying to sound less like a scared hamster, "feel a little better now? I mean, I hope so, not that it’s _ a requirement _, or, or..." it devolved into quiet, shaky laughter.

"Mmm," a nod. Sig seemed satisfied enough, wiggling free of the stiff arms that bolstered him. He'd regained his customary sense of mellow calm. Stretching his arms a little, he finally noticed his friend's... new color. Head cocked like a curious dog, he asked, "um, you okay? You're kinda red."

"I'm f-fine. It's warm in here. A little overheated. That must be it. Yes,_ that's _it!" It almost sounded believable

"Akuma-HEM," a third party interjected, "is there a problem with the seating provided?"

Enter Akuma, resident librarian, historian and probably the most polite demon inhabiting a levitating navy-blue plush bear one could ever hope to meet apart from the odd growling fit. That usually occurred before friendly matches of puyo puyo. It was the sort of thing everyone just seemed to accept.

Sig shook his head, "nah, was looking for something. Glasses was helping." He glanced sidelong at his somewhat dazed companion and sheepishly mumbled, "didn't mean to cause trouble."

The floating bear-doll adjusted his unnecessary monocle and nodded. Whether he believed the statement or not, he seemed to accept it. "Unfortunate. Did you two manage to recover the item 'ma ?"

"Yup. It's fine now." The young man smiled brightly, though his sleepy-looking eyes failed to change. He scooted out from under the table, taking his time in getting to his feet. Balancing with the odd are wasn't entirely effortless. His legs being half-asleep didn't help.

It was only then that Sig saw the assortment of texts strewn about the table and remembered what they were for. "Oh. Mister Akuma, it's okay to borrow these?"

Sifting through the pile of books, 'Mister' Akuma didn't see a problem with loaning a few out with one exception. "Hmm. I am aware of the assignment tasked to you students, 'ma. This one may be required for others..."

"Oh."

"However, it is rather late in the day. I will allow it on the condition you surrender it tomorrow if there is a need for it, kuma-ma. Which of you intend to possess this volume?" The head libearian started checking out the other tomes while he spoke.

"Bookworm." Not knowing where to put what, Sig started randomly packing his satchel. He'd still be stuck carrying a few by hand, but he didn't mind.

In the interim, the 'bookworm' had extricated himself and now stood upon shaky legs. Klug removed his glasses and wearily rubbed his eyes, then cringed as he witnessed Sig's cramming 'technique'. He mumbled something quietly and worked quickly to load his own bag, vowing to save as many books as possible from such an ignoble fate.


	2. Interim

In the light of early evening many of the shops lining the market of Primp Town were winding down. The ebbing flow of customers provided a great time to tidy, take inventory or do whatever else needed doing. It wasn't yet time for those who did business after dusk to open up shop: those consisted primarily of restaurants. Primp wasn't exactly known for its vibrant nightlife...not that it particularly mattered to students.

"I told you already, it's not a problem!" This was the _ third _ time Klug had been forced to repeat himself. It had lost its novelty the second time. Now, it was just irritating. Under different circumstances he'd have been more than happy to part ways with the bi-chromatic parrot he was currently dragging by the wrist.

The way things were going, Klug was either going to help him or kill him. Both options were on the table.

"But-" The blue-haired boy tried to interject again.

"Sig. Please. Stop. Asking."

The drag-ee sighed and finally gave up, resigning himself to being pulled down the lane by his free hand; the left was saddled with carrying the library overflow. The weight in his odd arm was negligible but keeping the four books together wasn't as easy a task.

...

Great. _ Wonderful_. Now the silence was getting on Klug's nerves.

There had to be a light topic he could bring up. Something that was in no way related to what had transpired earlier. He didn't need Sig upset, nor was it the time to sort through his own feelings. Unpacking those had to wait.

His empty stomach offered the perfect suggestion. It was the first time in his life that he welcomed the irritable grumblings of hunger pangs. When was the last time he'd eaten?..

Head turned slightly toward his hesitant charge, Klug piped up "hey, Sig, you're probably hungry, right?"

"Eh?.. sort of." It was the kind of non-answer Sig was notorious for. No help whatsoever.

"Well, what do you usually eat? I can't guarantee anything, but I'll try to accommodate you."

"Doesn't matter. Kinda wanted a melon bun. Place is closed though."

_Well maybe if you'd been a little less clingy it'd still be_ _ope_\- no. Klug quashed the vicious little thought. There was still so much he had to do and silently stewing wouldn't help. He coughed, as much to clear his throat as to expel the frustration.

"It's not the same thing, but I do have muffins available." The bespectacled-one gestured, one part nonchalance, another part smug. "Would that suffice?"

The cyan tufts perked up even before their owner could form a smile. It was all the answer he needed to give.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was an unassuming little house; two floors, the odd decorative shrub and a half-cladding in brickwork. Not a mansion, but a perfectly reasonable piece of architecture.

The inside, by contrast, was very traditional. It was almost oppressive, a _ perfect _setting for a cheap murder mystery. Only one piece stood out among the wood everything: a comfortable-looking plush sofa set before a stout-legged coffee table.

There was a low 'thud' as Klug's satchel was deposited atop the hard surface. Two louder 'thuds' followed the first. It was _ such _ a relief to be free of that weight.

The academic collapsed gratefully into the soft comfort of the sofa, idly waving in his companion's general direction. "There's no point in standing around. Take a break. You _ did _ carry most of those books. Aren't you tired?"

Sig obeyed, but shook his head at the question. He idly ran his right hand along the fabric. It felt just as soft as it looked. "Wasn't a big deal. Your house is closer than mine."

Inexplicably, Klug sat back and just... watched. There was a meditative quality in the somnolist's motions. Peaceful, even. Was the sofa really that interesting?..

A sudden realization descended upon him. He was at home. _ It _ was here. He leant forward, massaging his temples as he groaned. He was just not in the mood to deal with _ that _ right now. If he tarried for too long...

"Sig, just wait here, alright? There's something I need to take care of." he pulled his satchel into his lap, rooting around with deliberate intent. _ There _ it was. Disdainfully, he lifted out a weathered paperback and held it to his chest, desperate to obscure the title. "I'll be right back."

"'Kay. Have fun?"

_ None _ of this had anything to do with fun. The bibliophile mumbled, "yeah, sure," under his breath as he left the cushy haven of the living room for the upstairs. Specifically, his own room. Despite being a bit worn down, he ascended the stairs with a brisk familiarity.

Klug paused before the ominously closed door, a long-winded sigh passing his lips. _ Please, _ ** _please _ ** _ be in a good mood_. Gripping and turning the knob as if it led to his own execution, he entered and pushed the door back closed in one swift movement.

Atop his immaculately kept desk sat a familiar volume, opened to no page in specific. Rising from the binding was one very small, very angry-looking red spirit. _ Wonderful,_ he mused, _ he looks spikier than usual_.

"Explain yourself!" The tiny demonic entity wailed, waving its itty-bitty arms frantically, "why are you so _ late_?! I've been bored! _ BORED_! Why didn't you take me with you?!"

Taking a moment to adjust his glasses and discard his hat, the academic sighed, "I thought we both agreed that it was the best option? You hate being in confined spaces with other books. Bad memories, you said?"

"... Oh. Yeah, I did say that, didn't I?" Its angry eyes slits rounded back out to 'normal' as it cackled, "eh, being trapped in a book for at least a few centuries does things to the memory. Y' know?"

"I do not know, nor do I_ want _ to. A few hours was enough for one lifetime." Klug crossed his arms defiantly, not wanting to think about 'the incident' right now. He held the ratty-looking novel just out of the crimson dramatist's reach. "I believe _ this _was part of today's agreement?"

The spirit's eyes seemed to light up as it tried to snatch the book away. Stymied, it started to complain, "Keeeluuug, c'mon and hand it over! Gimmie!"

Green eyes glinting, Klug's smile was perhaps a bit_ too _ wide. Softly, he spoke, "I want to add a further condition. I have a guest over and far too much work to do. I don't wish to be disturbed by _ you_. I trust you'll behave?"

"Extortionist! You can't just add new terms whenever you feel like i-... y' know what? Fine. Just give me that book." Defeated, the spectre flopped over approximately where its waist would be.

"Uhyahyahyahya! Wonderful, wonderful! Here, take it, take it!" Trying to keep his victory peal to a dull roar, the celestial mage passed the beaten-up missive to the annoyed little spirit. "Although I do have to ask, what is it about cheap romance novels you find so interesting? The summary sounds dreadful."

'Blinking', the red entity shrugged, clutching the book to its 'body', "it's not romance, idiot, it's comedy. It's so _ satisfying _ when the whole 'love' thing inevitably falls apart and everyone's miserable. Unrequited feelings are good, too! Ever read Wuthering Heights? It's _ gold_!"

"I-is that so... well, have fun with that." Maybe asking hadn't been the greatest idea. If the novel kept the little red pest from screaming at him all evening, well, it was harmless enough.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

_ One thing down, a half dozen or so to go. _

Time management wasn't normally much of a problem for Klug. Ever diligent, he'd gladly forego unnecessary luxuries such as sleep or food for the sake of project completion. Having another party involved made matters... difficult. The particular nature of_ this _party further complicated things. It would be a challenge, but challenges existed to be conquered. Right?

Next on the agenda; food. At least that was simple. Day-old muffins weren't exactly gourmet but the prospect certainly piqued Sig's interest on the way home. Honestly, the odd boy would probably be content with just about anything. That easygoing nature would almost make him envious if it wasn't so _ frustrating_. What do you do with someone who claims to like pretty much everything?

It was absolutely no surprise that Sig had fallen asleep on the plush sofa. Klug would've been more shocked to find his classmate _ awake _instead. As the young mage turned to address the consumables situation, there was one oddity that caught his eye. Strewn about the coffee table were loose stacks of books and the odd paper. Apparently Sig had at least tried sorting the jumbled contents of his own bag into something resembling order. The job was amateurish at best but more than he'd expected.

_ Let him sleep_, he mused. At least it would prevent his friend from getting underfoot while the whole food situation was sorted.


	3. Snacks and Solutions

"Sig?"

Nothing.

"Hey, Sig?"

Zilch.

Placing a palm on one of Sig's shoulders, Klug gingerly shook the unconscious body. That act elicited a barely audible murmur in protest.

"Do you want something to eat or are you just going to lie here and starve?"

Mumble. A sliver of red iris peaked from behind a heavy eyelid. Its owner began the laborious process of sitting upright. Brushing wild strands of cyan out of his eyes, Sig yawned, blinked and let out a contented little hum, "hi. Got sleepy. Sorry."

If it wasn't textbook narcolepsy Sig suffered from, well, it had to be close. At least_ this _ time his eyes were closed. Klug shuddered. The first time Sig had fallen asleep with his eyes open, Amitie was convinced the somnolist had died and tried to resuscitate the kid by dropping puyo on him. _ Lots _ of them. To be fair, it had worked.

"Muffins?" Sig half-asked, half-yawned.

"Kitchen. You can't eat on the furniture. It'll get crumbs everywhere. Here, come on," the scholar extended an open hand, "unless you expect me to carry you or something."

Although the hand was readily accepted, Sig peered at him curiously, the little wheels in his mind turning. Coming to a conclusion, he spoke candidly, "not sure that would work. Probably could pick you up, though. Wanna try?"

"... No."

"Aww," the still dozy bug-lover sounded just a little disappointed, "maybe later?"

"It was a joke, Sig." A joke Klug was already regretting having made as he led the short way to the kitchen.

Sig just shrugged, not particularly put off even as his hand was released. "Doesn't mean you can't tr-"

"Pull up a seat," Klug interrupted, eager to change the subject, "take what you like. I didn't expect company so it's the best I could do."

The table spread wasn't grand, but was fully respectable. In addition to the fabled nut muffins there was a small bowl of mixed fruit and a smaller one with candies. The student mage figured water was a safe enough bet, so he'd set a couple of glasses out. Still, he couldn't help but think he'd forgotten something.

"Oh! Maybe you'd like to wash your-," Klug was a little on the late side. His guest was already masticating a good half of one muffin. Was he part squirrel or something?

"Thfif ghoff," Sig struggled to speak through a full but thankfully closed mouth, "thnfk."

At least he had _ some _ table manners?

"You're... welcome? Maybe try swallowing before talking. That generally helps." The mage waved dismissively, then returned to peeling and sectioning an orange.

"Ofth," his classmate finished consuming the muffin half and smiled wanly, "sorry. Kinda hungry. This's good. Where'd you get it?"

Swallowing a couple of orange pieces, Klug suddenly turned subdued and mumbled, "I didn't 'get' them. I... I made them myself. It's not like it's a big deal or anything." Suddenly feeling defensive, he puffed his chest out a little. "And will you _ please _ stop grinning like that?"

Shrugging, Sig took a reasonably-sized bite out of his half-eaten baked treat. "Not making it a big deal, but it's cool. Bookworm's good at lots of things."

"Yes, yes, I'm great, but more to the point," Klug babbled, trying to change the subject, "what about you and that arm? Has it always been like that?"

The positive atmosphere audibly broke, shattering into pieces.

Placing the remaining muffin back on the dish, Sig seemed to shrink back, rubbing his bare red forearm absentmindedly. "No. Used to look like this," he offered up his perfectly normal right hand for scrutiny, "not anymore. Eye's always been red, though. Weird."

Maybe this direct approach had been a mistake. Yes, it _ was _ a mistake, the studious one realized. He'd have to deal with it, try to ply what he could without making his compatriot shut down. He attempted to smile, his unease twisting it into a warped grimace. "It's just that the timing could be important. I mean, if you remember, that could help..."

"Sorta. Moved here, kinda had lots happening. Stuff settled down. Then," with a flat sigh, he set his head down on the table, "it was like this."

Interesting. If something of that nature could manifest in such a short time... well, being worried was the only natural reaction. It just seemed to take longer to register in this case because, well, Sig was Sig. Klug tried to offer some form of reassurance, reaching across the table and tousling the despondent boy's hair, "hey, it's okay. I do want to help. Knowing more might make that easier."

Sig made a small noise, but lapsed into silence again. If it weren't for his periodic blinking, Klug could've sworn his classmate was asleep. Failing anything else, the mage kept stroking the mess of aquamarine that passed as Sig's hair. _ Soft_, he idly mused.

"H-hey, you're worried about it spreading, right?" _ of course he is_, his brain screamed, _ he told you that already! _ "Maybe it's kind of like having a scar. It almost always seems worse to whoever has it. Like, you look in the mirror and it's all you can see, but nobody else really notices..."

A lake-blue eye peered from between messy strands, its owner mumbling, "a scar?.."

"It was just an example, I mea-"

"_You _ have a scar?" The idea seemed to pique the entomophile's curiosity.

"_No! _ I mean, yes. I mean," Klug floundered, "a small one. Doesn't everyone?"

"Show me."

More screeched protests. "Tch! It was just an example!"

"Show me," he asked plaintively, getting to his feet and plodding to the opposite side of the table, now standing next to Klug, "please?"

It was less the old wound but how it had been obtained that stoked Klug's reluctance. The two mismatched eyes that bore into him just looked so, _ so _ sorrowful. Fine, what the hell was his dignity worth anyway? He sighed, sweeping the bangs above his left temple to one side. "Here, see?"

Very...unimpressive. It was a clean, horizontal line roughly an inch in length, ending abruptly where the ear began. 

"Does it hurt?" Sig's hushed tone bordered on reverence, his fingers hovering just shy of the mark as though he wanted to touch it.

"What? No. Of course not. It's, well," he tried to explain, ignoring the wavering hand, "I got it as a little kid. I was... I was being stupid."

"How?"

Klug fought the reflex to flinch when the hand brushed his face. "Don't share it, but," wearily, he reminisced, "I smacked it on the edge of the table. I was running around, didn't listen, and wound up with a gaping headwound. Needed a couple of stitches, even." With a slight smirk, he added, "not exactly my proudest moment."

Seemingly grasping the point, Sig stated, "you notice it the most."

"Exactly. So what _ you _ need is an outside opinion."

"Um," his face scrunched as he recalled, "already asked you."

"I didn't have a point for comparison. So, we need to make one."

"... Don't really get it. Sorry."

Clasping his hands in self-satisfied glee, Klug smiled and laughed, "oh, that won't be difficult. Finish eating, I'll explain everything. Trust me, it'll work!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

An exasperated sigh, "it'd be easier if you didn't squirm so much."

"Trying not to," spoken in an even monotone, "haven't done this before."

"And you think I have?! Sig, please!"

"Sorry. Just feels kind of cold."

"Oh. Well, I'll find a different one for next ti-"

"Not that. Your hands. They're cold."

"I-is that so? Well, there's not much I can do about that. I can't understand how someone who isn't even _ fazed _ by junk puyo concussions could be so... so... well, fidgety!" Klug groused, plucking a pencil from the corner of his mouth to jot something into a notebook," just _ try _ to keep still!"

"Trying to," the cyan-haired boy grumbled, "just feels weird."

For the past ten minutes or so Klug had been kneeling on the sofa, poking and prodding a very shirtless Sig with a metal ruler. The idea was sound enough: record where the foreign-looking growth was now, then repeat the process as many times as necessary to gauge its spread (or lack thereof). Simple! Or it _ would _ have been if the subject of study could resist the urge to move around quite so much.

"Done yet?"

"No, I'm not! Do I have to pin you to the cushions?! Just stay still!" It wasn't as though the academic was doing this for fun. It was _interesting_, sure, but who would scoff at having the chance to observe such a unique phenomena? It certainly didn't hurt that the subject of study was one-of-a-kind. 

"... Your face looks scary."

Blinking, Klug realized he'd been staring while his train of thought derailed. He was _ supposed _ to be an impartial observer. The texture of Sig's skin as it transitioned from its native state into the reddish hide left of the shoulder shouldn't have been his concern, nor the particular way the musculature built up gradually the further down the arm one traveled. There was also the sliver of carmine that seemed to highlight the first couple of ribs, almost artful-

"Klug?"

Stopping to think hadn't helped at all. Feeling trapped and more than slightly out-of-sorts, he resorted to intentional misdirection. 

_ Bap_. A metal ruler tapped the end of the bug catcher's nose. _ Bap. Bap. _

"Great, so now I have cold hands _ and _ I look scary." Klug slumped onto the couch next to the _ still _ very, very shirtless Sig, idly tapping the measuring stick against whatever it happened to touch. Hopefully that kept his classmate distracted while the flushing in his cheeks faded.

_ Bap. _

"Umm..."

_ Bap. _

"Glasses..."

_ Bap. _ The nickname was met by a genuinely irritated scowl that the lenses did nothing to conceal. "Don't call me that. Please."

_ Bap. _

"Okay, _ Klug_," the young man emphasized, "stop hitting me."

_ Ba- _

The ruler-hand was caught mid-swing at the wrist by Sig's menacing left. Dropping the metallic stick, Klug just... stared at his trapped hand. There was enough raw strength in his classmate's odd limb to effortlessly snap the wrist it was clutching. He wasn't afraid, though. Sig was, well, _ Sig. _

Sig was... well...

Sig was staring at him, small furrows gathered on the boy's brow. Frustrated, Klug went to turn his face away and couldn't. How long had his friend's palm been resting on his cheek? Why hadn't he noticed?

"You okay? You're acting weird." The voice, the palm on his cheek, even the _ claws _ restraining his wrist were gentle. 

The mage's heart leapt into his chest. _ Oh the love of everything celestial_, if he hadn't been blushing before he _ certainly _ had to be now. He tried to stammer out something, _ anything, _ but all he could manage was a timid squeak.

It hadn't helped. The sound only seemed to agitate Sig even more. There was a nervous quaver as he asked for a second time, "h-hey, Klug? You're okay?"

Talking was off the table for now, but Klug was able to manage the stiffest of stiff nods. It wasn't much, but apparently it was enough to earn his release.

.... Temporarily.

Seconds later he was swept into an enthusiastically apologetic black hole of a hug from which there was no chance of escape. No light and certainly no mage could resist its pull.

"Didn't know it bothered you so much," his benevolent captor admonished, "should've said something."

The edges of Klug's vision started to blur, little pinpricks of light flashing like stars in the hazy periphery. Pulse racing, he wondered if this was how he was going to die. He'd survived being possessed just to have his heart explode and/ or be crushed to death by an oblivious but well-meaning friend. It seemed typical of his life up to this point.

An easy, merciful release was not to be had. He had to live with... whatever this was.

On the bright side, the pressure from the hug had leveled and he didn't hear any ribs snapping under the strain. Eventually he even started to breathe again which worked wonders for his perception. Things could be worse.

Worse? No, that implied the situation was entirely negative. This was atypical and far outside his usual zone of comfort but it wasn't necessarily _ bad_. Disruptive? Would that work? He'd have to think about it.

Trying to impose some order on the loose thoughts rattling away inside his head, Klug finally started to calm down. He'd always been highly strung by nature, prone to panicking whenever things went awry. It was just... there. It was a constant companion that no amount of forced bravado could ever fully banish, and so little had gone according to plan today. Being overwhelmed was expected.

He was too preoccupied with introspection to notice the tension in his body gradually ease. His head rested against Sig's chest, which rose and fell steadily with every breath. There was something reassuring about it, a living creature's metronome.

For a time, he just stayed like that, even after being let go.


	4. Bunny

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cuddly...

Ironic, that as one relaxed the other grew more disturbed.

Maybe grabbing his friend's wrist had been a mistake, but what else else was he supposed to do? He tried asking. Being repeatedly tapped with a ruler for no reason didn't hurt but it made it no less vexing. It didn't make it right.

Then, Bookworm went all stiff and weird again for no reason. Pink, too. That seemed to happen several times today. Maybe he was sick? Asking wouldn't do any good, the celestial mage would probably do that weird laugh and insist he was fine. Sig had accepted his help but_ he _seemed unable to admit wanting any in return. It didn't seem fair.

Hugging him was probably something he shouldn't have done either. Was _ all _ this distress over the nickname? It was disappointing. He liked using them even though they were rarely shorter than anyone's given name. Could he still use 'Bookworm' or did that have to go, too?

_ Depressing _.

At least Klug seemed to have stopped freaking out for the time being. His pulse wasn't super-fast anymore, either. _ Good _ . It kind of reminded him of a baby rabbit before it got used to people, wide-eyed and heart hammering so fast and so, _ so _ hard. It wasn't its fault. That's just how bunnies were.

'Bunny'. A silent smile formed on his face. If Klug hated 'Glasses' he'd _ definitely _ hate 'Bunny', but the mental image was too perfect to resist. The overachiever certainly was jumpy enough to qualify; harried and nervous, too, but still cute.

Perhaps it wouldn't be the worst idea to keep an eye on his friend. After all, everyone should have someone to worry about them, _ especially _if they didn't worry about themselves. That's what Amitie had said, anyway, and it made sense to him.

Sig let Klug free... or _ mostly _ free. His odd arm propped up the slackened body of his classmate so that he wouldn't unexpectedly slide off and onto the floor or worse. A bang into the coffee table was definitely something that Klug didn't need.

_ Wonder when I can get my shirt back, _ he indolently mused. It was mildly gratifying that his friend didn't seem repulsed by his 'condition'. If the scholar was disgusted there was no _ way _ he'd keep this quiet and look so tranquil. _ Such a relief. _

He couldn't help brushing a loose lock of chestnut hair out from in front of his friend's lenses, sweeping it to the side where it was supposed to be. The usually expressive green eyes stared into nothing, their owner deep in contemplation. _ What's he thinking about..? _

Daylight was burning. As much as Sig didn't want to disturb his classmate's meditation, it wouldn't be good to stay like this forever. Less time meant more pressure, pressure neither of them needed. He'd already lost them a great deal thanks to his performance in the library.

"Hey, Klug," he nudged his comatose companion's head gingerly with his chin, "doing okay?"

"... Hmm?"

"You're not mad?"

"What? Mad?" The mage still seemed a little out of it, but slowly continued, "no. No, I'm not mad. Why? Do I look angry?"

Sig shook his head. "Nah, kinda dazed, but not angry. Feel better?"

Taking a moment to think about it, Klug gave a small nod, still supported by his friend. "Surprisingly, yeah, I do," adding apologetically, "sorry about the... everything. Ruler. Overreacting. You know."

"Sure. Sorry for calling you 'Glasses'. Didn't think it bothered you."

Smirking, the bespectacled one replied, "I guess I could've said something sooner. We're both at fault, there."

"Guess so," the bug catcher smiled, "umm, one question."

"Hm? What's that?"

"Where's my shirt?"


	5. Goodnight..?

Given the late start and general chaos of the day, Klug was generally pleased with how the research paper had gone. It wasn't  _ finished _ , mind, but having a mostly-complete outline and a few early sections drafted was beyond his expectations.

Yes, if he'd worked alone it would have gone smoother and would probably be finished by now, but working together with Sig wasn't as much of a detriment as he'd anticipated. The Glossary of Obscure Magical Terms came out way more often when the blue-haired bubblehead was involved but he admittedly looked a thing or two up to verify, himself.

_ More _ unexpectedly, his classmate actually had a passable knowledge of plants. It was an extreme novelty that the boy had some useful knowledge that wasn't directly related to insects. Sure, knowing more about vegetation helped determine what bugs could be found where, but it was still something different. To Klug, plants were simply those things that died whenever he brought them inside. No matter what he tried they always seemed to do that. At some point he'd taken it personally and stopped trying.

Working on the coffee table was more crowded than he'd prefer, but the floor made a good holding space for books not currently being referenced. Not ideal, but it worked.

Scribbling a few more annotations in the margins of an entry for uses of day lilies in relation to light magic, he casually asked Sig to pass him the outline again, intending to append it with this new information. No response.

...  _ Great _ . Klug groaned, resting his cheek in his palm. The shallow breathing, open eyes and failure to blink meant one thing; Sig was asleep again. What time was it, anyhow? He'd lost track at some point. Glancing at the window, all that could be seen was the deepest navy and black, broken up by the yellow and white dots from nearby homes.  _ Oh. _

An upside-down look at the watch around his neck confirmed it. 12:30 in the morning.  _ Very _ late, or very early if one preferred. Being tired wasn't just understandable, it was, well, quite natural.

Sleep.

Sleep?

_ Sleep?! _ It finally registered to his fatigued mind; what was he going to do with Sig? He couldn't expect his classmate to stumble home in complete darkness. Didn't he live on the outskirts of town, anyway? Even if it wasn't as far, Nahe wasn't exactly the safest forest to traverse alone. At night. There'd even been rumors of an owl-bear, so far unsubstantiated but Klug wasn't eager to validate them.

No, Sig had to stay over. The sofa had been good enough for a nap, after all. Pillows and a blanket could make it downright cozy. It would be fine.  _ Fine _ ! Why wouldn't it be? Sleepovers were a thing, not something he'd really been a party to but they  _ existed. _ Besides, it'd be more convenient for working on the project in the morning. Maybe they'd even finish it. Stranger things had happened before.

Fetching the linens didn't take long, and as expected, the couch was easy to transform into a cozy-looking nest. Now all he needed to do was wake up Sig and change into night... clothes.  _ Radiant heavens _ , he hadn't thought about that. He mentally flipped through his wardrobe, trying to remember if he had anything comfortable that would suit. Their builds were different and most of Klug's clothes were form-fitting to some degree. An old t-shirt would probably work and he had no real attachment to those, anyway.

Now, to  _ retrieve _ such an article... well, maybe his shouty little red roommate would be 'asleep', or so absorbed in the new novel that he could come and leave unnoticed. Taking care in mounting the stairs, Klug mentally prepared himself to trespass in the most forbidden of all territories; his own room.

Slowly, carefully, he grasped the doorknob an-

"Hi," the book-bound phantom greeted him with all the warmth of an overworked coroner, "we need to talk. Now."

_ Damn. _ Klug cringed, all his hopes of a quiet night/ morning dying with no hope of resuscitation.

"Look, I just want to grab something, then you can be indignant all y-"

Somehow the tiny narrowed dots that passed for its eyes seethed with genuine menace and more than a hint of anger. "No. NOW."

"This has nothing to do with y-"

"This has EVERYTHING to do with me! You think I don't know?! That I can't TELL?" It bristled, raising its voice for all the good it did. After all, only those who had a connection with the carmine body-snatcher seemed to be able to hear it. Unfortunately for Klug, he was one such party.

Klug sighed, trying to defuse the firecracker that was currently exploding and doing a number on his fatigued mind, "I'm sorry if you feel like I abandoned you, Aya. Tomorrow I'll take you to the store a-"

"Bribery won't work THIS time, kiddo." 'Aya' cut him off. It was more a descriptor than a name for the frustrated demonic entity. Its proper name was lost to the mists of time so it had adopted 'Ayashii' or 'Strange' for lack of a better title.

"Even one from the 'rare' section?" One of  _ those _ books would cost the mage plenty, but it would be worth it to avoid a headache.

Screeching, the tiny semi-corporeal entity picked a pencil from its holder on the desk and threw it at Klug's face. The pencil arcked, but fell woefully short, rolling to a slow stop at the attempted briber's feet. Aya howled in frustration, cursing at its inability to manipulate anything heavier than a small paperback. Even  _ that _ took a great deal of effort.

Klug paced across the room, wearily taking a seat on his bed. If this was going to continue he may as well be comfortable. Hopefully the shrieking nuisance would exhaust itself soon. While Ayashii was generally a prickly character it was rarely  _ this _ upset. He flatly entreated, "so, will you actually tell me what I've supposedly done or are we doing twenty questions?"

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN, 'TELL YOU'?! YOU'RE DOING THIS ON PURPOSE, AREN'T YOU?!"

"Your novel had a happy resolution?"

"NO!! IT'S... it's actually fine. I'm enjoying i- HEY! DON'T CHANGE THE SUBJECT!"

"I can't do that if I don't know what the subject  _ is." _

_ "YOU'RE STUPID BUT YOU'RE NOT THAT STU-" _

Both parties were startled by a knock at the door, followed by the slow squeak of hinges. Wreathed in the relative dark of the hallway was an ominous cloaked figure. It shuffled forward, and into the light.

Ah. Of course. It had to be Sig, didn't it? Blanket draped over head and shoulders like a cowl, the two bleary eyes blinked from behind a disheveled mess of bangs. At least he'd found the linens without trouble.

True, he  _ had  _ knocked, but it was customary to  _ ask _ before barging into someone else's room. Klug's mouth opened, and h-

" _ So loud _ . Please, stop yelling. 'Kay? Wanna get some sleep..." It was a simple complaint, but there was a problem.

"S-Sig? I wasn't yelling, so what are you talking about?" At least, Klug didn't think he'd been. Maybe the bug catcher had the hearing of a dog on top of his squirrel-like eating habits.

The cloaked somnolist shook his head, mumbling something that sounded like, "not you, him." A draped arm gestured to the now silent book demon. Sig stared at the apparition, like he was trying to remember something.

Uncomfortable with the attention, Ayashii floated backwards, crossing its arms indignantly. Staring back, it hissed, "what do  _ you _ want?"

"Sleep." The cloaked sleepybug really didn't mince words, did he?

"Well you can't always  _ get _ what you want!" spat the little red viper.

"How..? T-this has to bad dream or something," Klug muttered to himself, wondering exactly when he'd fallen asleep, "I just... I can't..."

"Klug, why's your book so  _ loud _ ?"

"I'M NOT A BOOK, I JUST LIVE IN ONE!"

Sig tilted his head, then drowsily asked, "oh, like a snail?"

"I'M NOT A- huh, that's not entirely inaccurate," Aya pondered momentarily, then resumed his irate tirade. "THAT DOESN'T MATTER, ANYWAY! Idiotic half-a-soul meat shell, why am I even talking to you?"

_ Half a soul...?  _ Klug really,  _ really  _ didn't like where this seemed to be headed. His head already hurt and none of this helped.

The bizarre chain of insults didn't seem to phase their target. Instead, the cowled intruder moved to sweep up the book, shouting resident and all, mumbling, "so  _ noisy _ ."

"S-Sig I don't think that's a great ide-"

"GEDDYERHANDAWA-"  _ thud.  _ The tome snapped shut, safely tucked under Sig's arm.

"Dun' worry, not gonna hurt him. G'night," he started to slowly shuffle off, leaving Klug in his room. Alone.

"... Good... night." It certainly didn't  _ feel _ like a good one. Not at all. Was it his imagination, or were both of Sig's eyes... red? No, a trick of the light, fatigue or both at the same time. It  _ had _ to be.

It was probably better for his sanity that his friend's arms had been covered by the robe-like sheet. Beneath, Sig's left arm silently radiated a troubling ruby aura. Sometimes, one was better off not knowing.


	6. Nightmare

_ How_? How could this have happened again? It should've been impossible. He was panicking, right? Everything would be fine, just take calm, measured breaths and...

No. He couldn't breathe. How could one hope to without lungs?

He watched the self that was no longer himself, a cruel grin etched across the face that rightfully belonged to him. Its braying laughter echoed as it strode in a way he never walked. Closer. Closer.

Its eyes... _ his _ eyes glowed a malicious shade of red; a mix between finest ruby and freshly spilled blood. All hints of their original color were lost. The vibrant emerald entirely subsumed. _ Erased. _

_ You have what you want_, he silently screamed, _ please don't do this_. _ Not again_.

"Well, now, you do look unhappy, don't you?" The thing that wasn't him cooed, each soft word drenched in venom, "why's that? _ You _ wanted this. _ You _ wanted to selfishly harness this power. I merely acted as your guide."

... It was true. _ All _ of it. The power he'd tampered with refused to be controlled. Now that which he'd sought after, _ yearned _ for, had rejected him.

He deserved this powerlessness.

He deserved the paper prison in which he'd found himself.

Jeering, his former body traced a finger along the edge of the tome which would serve as his tomb. "You're of no further use to me. It's time to say goodbye, at least for now. Perhaps the darkness you craved will lend you some form of solace."

The book was slammed _ shut_.

No. No no no _ no_! He wanted to scream. He _ needed _ to.

_ Let me out. Let me out, let me out _ ** _let me out let me out!_ **

His entire world shook. It stopped jostling as quickly as it started.

Again, the void that was his new home rattled.

Klug shrieked. He shrieked?

All he could hear was the ragged sound of his own breath. Short, quick gasps, trying to make up for the suffocating nightmare.

A solitary red eye hovered perilously close to his face, glowing with its own ominous light.

He yelped, trying to scramble backwards in his half-awake delirium, but was unable because of a weight on his shoulders. Why hadn't he noticed that before? _ Why_?

While effectively immobilizing, the solid grip didn't hurt. Whatever it was gently shook him by the shoulders.

"Please," it entreated, "please wake up, Klug."

In the obfuscating blackness, shapes started to take form. His bleary green eyes squinted into the gloom as the terrifying sleep haze gradually lifted. The dappled moonlight made for poor illumination but it was enough to reveal familiar surroundings. His own room, his own bed, his own Sig...

... Wait. What. Why was he being straddled by a Sig?

His friend started to shake him again. It exacerbated a dull, growing ache in the back of his skull. _ Ow. _

"I'm a-wake st-op shak-ing me!" The words were stilted, but surely Sig could make them out.

"Oh. Good," the cyan-haired boy's head drooped as his shoulders relaxed, "so, so glad."

In a half-mumbled monotone, Klug muttered, "you can let go at any time, you know."

Twitch. Blinking a couple of times, the bug catcher relinquished his hold. "'Kay," he let his hands drop to his sides, "nightmare?"

"How did yo-," Klug stopped short. Oh, _ nocte cometes_, he must've been shouting in his sleep. Very, very loudly, if Sig had heard from his nest on the downstairs sofa. A miserable whine escaped his throat. "Yeah, I must've woken you up. Sorry. Go back to sleep, I'm fine now."

"Nmm. No, can't," brow furrowed, a clawed index finger prodded Klug's arm, "still trembling."

_ For the sake of the heavens_, if he were shaking he'd kno- oh. In a shaft of moonlight Klug could clearly see his hands quivering. A knot of disappointment formed in the pit of his stomach. How mature could he possibly be if a 'bad dream' rattled him this much?

Deflection. His ego required it. Taking a deep breath and slowly exhaling, he tried to cover his weakness. "It's not that," he mumbled with just a hint of condescension, "I'm just... cold. I guess there's a draft somewhere."

Sig's blank expression didn't change as he leaned forward a tiny bit, seeming to scrutinize his classmate's face. Could he actually see anything in the dark? The eerily luminescent eye implied it.

"Liar."

Klug's best attempt at a poker face folded in on itself. He'd have to practice that later. At least he'd never intended to become a hustler... magical science involved far less deception. Wearily, he massaged his temples and replied, "technically, I'm not. Being disturbed and being cold aren't mutually exclusive. Just go to sleep, Sig. It's late, we're both tired and have more work to do tomorrow."

"Hmm," the entomophile squinted, reaching out his right hand, holding the back against his increasingly frustrated compatriot's forehead. The skin did have a slight chill. "Guess you aren't lying. Sorry."

"It doesn't matter. Why won't you listen to me..?" Klug groaned, batting away the foreign extremity. The budding headache did nothing to improve his disposition. Mumbling, he held his head in his hands. He _ was _ grateful to be awoken from that terrible dream but why did his saviour have to be this stubborn pest?!

"Hmn. Nightmare may come back, plus being cold won't help..."

"Are your ears just a decoration or something? I'll take my chances, okay? I just wanna sleep."

Thinking... what would help? A distraction? Yes, something distracting.

A placid smile spread across Sig's face. Without warning, he pitched to one side and flopped onto the vacant half of the bed, lying atop the covers. He nuzzled into an unused pillow, making himself right at home.

Klug rolled to face the doe-eyed simpleton and hissed, "what are you doing?! I didn't mean 'go to sleep right here'! Do you have _ any _ concept of personal space?!"

Said simpleton blinked curiously, the tufts atop his head moving a little. "Don't take up much personal space and there's room. What's wrong?"

"Gaaah! You know what? Fine. I give up, I give up," he rolled and turned his back on Sig, his emerald eyes smouldering, "honestly, it's like arguing with a wall..."

Pulling the covers possessively over himself, Klug tried to get comfortable, desperate to get some rest for the day ahead. The other boy's body shifted, its weight pressing against his back. _ Great_. This was getting ridiculous. He opened his mouth, more than ready to vent his frustrations.

Something made him pause. Despite the layered sheets he felt a comfortable warmth radiating through. It was pleasant, even cozy. He was still annoyed, still _ irritated_, but his resolve weakened and crumbled. The scholar's complaints died on his tongue. _ I guess this isn't the worst thing that could happen_, the mage sighed, _ at least I'm not cold anymore_.

Klug's pride wouldn't allow him to admit it, but this was... nice. He laid there, listening to his friend's slow, steady breathing, like the swell of the tide. Closing his eyes, he privately mused with a self-satisfied smirk, _ at least he doesn't snore. _

The nightmare didn't return.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

_ Distraction, handled. _A gratified smile spread across Sig's face. Whatever the cause of his friend's trembling was, it had finally ceased. Had Klug asked him to leave he would've done so. All he'd said was, 'go to sleep', to which the snugglebug obliged. Or, at least he intended to.

He couldn't help thinking about how _ bizarre _ tonight had been, especially once the little shrieking red thing became involved. At least it had quieted down after being successfully banished inside of the breadbox. Unfortunately, that left no room for the bread, so he'd been compelled to eat the quarter or so of a loaf that had been displaced. It'd have been a shame if it had gone stale. It had also served to distract from the ache that had cropped up in his arm.

_ Dumb arm_. Normally when the left-hand extremity acted up it went numb. Pain... wasn't normal. It had stopped soon enough, though, and he'd been able to get some sleep before being startled awake by a scream.

_ Poor Bunny. _ He hadn't been able to make much sense of the garbled sleep-talk but the panic in Klug's voice had been plain as day. So had the fear. _ You sounded so, so scared... _

At least his attempt at help seemed to work, judging from the soft, regular breathing and lack of terror-filled outbursts. The nervous mage seemed to be sleeping peacefully. Every once in awhile he'd catch a mumbled word or two. _ He talks in his sleep, _ Sig noted with some amusement, _ cute. _

It always felt good to helpful.

Confident that his vigilance was no longer required, Sig protectively draped his left arm over his charge and sank into a well-deserved slumber.


	7. Morning

What... time was is?

Whatever the time, it was too early. Much, _ much _too early.

Klug groaned, squeezing his eyes shut in a futile effort to keep out the sun's warming radiance _ out. _ His head was _ killing _him, or at least that's how it felt. It was as though a pincushion was being ground into the space behind his eyes.

_ Ow. _

At least he knew _ why _ he was in pain. He was less sure as to why his body felt so heavy. Simple tiredness, perhaps?

He risked taking a peek and instantly regretted it, his eye stung by the callous and uncaring sunlight. Why couldn't there be an eclipse or something?! What good was the magic of heavenly bodies if it wasn't able to tear a moon from its orbit and use it to blot out a single wretched star?

It was pathetic. _ He _ was pathetic.

... And curiously warm. Sightlessly groping around so not to risk being blinded a second time, he found his answer. An arm had been thrown around him at some point during the night, the dead weight of the thing pressing into him. Intending to shove it aside, he was surprised by the heat that radiated from the sandy-textured skin.

A thought occurred. Experimentally, he tried to shift it. Heavier than expected, but not immovable. Little by little, Klug managed to nudge the alien hand upwards, coaxing the palm open so that the fingers would cover his aching eyes.

_ Wonderful. _However strange it might have looked, Sig's hand made an effective hot compress. It couldn't fix the headache but it certainly made it easier to live with.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

All things considered, the celestial mage felt pretty good. A mild buzzing that remained in a corner of his brain but it was a far cry from what it had felt like earlier. At least now he didn't shrink back from the light like a theatrical vampire. Yes, life definitely wasn't all bad.

... If only he didn't need to confront that accursed book.

_ Ugh. _ No. Not right now. Procrastinating a little longer probably wouldn't hurt. Besides, the owner of the toasty vermilion hand which presently rested on his shoulder wasn't awake. He could spare a _ little _ more time.

Careful not to jostle said limb, Klug turned over to regard his uninvited but not unwelcome guest. The quiet, steady breathing was the only indication that the cyan-haired boy was alive at all, slightly curled up in yesterday's t-shirt and boxers atop the comforter. If he was cold, he gave zero indication of it. Then again, that was practically his defining characteristic. What, if anything, went on inside that skull of his was largely a mystery.

Looking so peaceful, so _ content _ ... it made the mage more than a little envious. Surely the prospect of his 'condition' spreading _ terrified _Sig, yet he seemed so calm much of last evening. Hell, later, he even attempted to smooth the frayed edges of Klug's post-nightmare nerves.

Sig was... well, Sig was _ nice _ . That made the academic all the more determined to find out something, _ anything _ that might improve his situation.

It took him a few moments to realize that he'd been brushing aside some of the wilder strands of the unconscious bug catcher's hair. This time, he didn't have the excuse of providing comfort or showing solidarity. It... just felt good, and it wasn't as though it hurt anything.

He kept believing that: then, Sig smiled. It was small, not one that would launch a thousand ships, but it still made his heart skip a beat. _ Why? _ Why did such a minor thing make him happy? Furthermore, why question it, as though happiness were a crime?

When was the last time Klug had spent time just being around someone like this? A year, maybe? Longer? During the infrequent times his parents came home it was difficult enough to hold a conversation unless it was related to his studies. They were either too busy or tired, and besides, he was old enough to 'stand on his own' and 'be independent'. If his grades were satisfactory then no intervention was necessary.

With Ayashii's presence at least he was never _ truly _ alone. At least it was someone to talk to. Its acerbic sense of humor left much to be desired, sometimes, but it wasn't usually so hostile. What was about Sig that set Aya off so badly? During the incident, Sig had been one of three that defeated it. Each had taken one artifact, but its ire seemed directed solely at the cyan-haired somnolist. Strange.

Pressure on his shoulder dragged the academic from his contemplative state, grabbed and then quickly released by his friend's toasty vermilion digits. It didn't hurt, though maybe it was a_ little _ harder than the mage would've preferred. _ That's what you get for moving it, _he supposed.

Eyes open only a sliver, the entomophile let out a long, relaxed breath. Fighting off the torpor seemed no easy task. Not surprising, since neither had gotten a reasonable amount of sleep. Blinking slowly, Sig seemed to realize where his left hand was, gingerly removing it.

"Sorry Kururu... y' okay?" He slurred apologetically, barely awake, trying to speak through a yawn with no great amount of success. Even now, the owner of the mismatched eyes seemed aware of the force his arm could exert. Hopeful, he asked, "not hurt?"

'Kururu'? That was a new one. Klug brushed it off, chalking it up to fatigue.

"No, I'm alright. It's... kind of my fault anyway. I moved it, so..."

"Good." The bug catcher didn't seem particularly worried about _ why _ the scholar had moved the thing, satisfied enough that no damage had been done. Stretching a little, he half-spoke, half-yawned again, "sleep okay?"

"W-well, better than before, yes," the mage sounded slightly flustered, fiddling with the cuff of one pajama sleeve while trying to find the right words, "I just wanted to say, thanks. Sorry if I seemed annoyed, umm, earlier..."

His companion beamed, not really expecting praise, "dun' worry. Y' were tired. Scared. S'okay. Glad to help."

That grin, so easygoing, so _ genuine _... Klug couldn't help but mutely stare.

Sig stared back, curiously, making a small noise in the back of his throat. "Hmm..."

The sound made the novice dark wizard nervous. Fidgeting, he thought, _why were you staring, anyway? You thought he wouldn't notice? _

Yet... Sig continued to stare.

Is this what it felt like to be an insect? To be silently studied and observed, waiting for the proverbial net to drop?

His friend finally seemed to reach a sort of epiphany, some revelation, and professed, "you look different without glasses."

That... that was _ it?! _ Yes, it was true, but...

"Can't always see 'em, lenses are so shiny," Sig continued, oblivious, "they're really green."

"Thanks..?"


	8. Breakfast

"...You ate the entire thing?"

The hair-like tufts on his friend's head seemed to droop, only adding to the aura of guilt that gathered like a fog. It had made sense at the time and there hadn't been _ that _ much left, anyway. Still...

Unexpectedly, Klug smiled and gave a modest shrug, "it couldn't be helped, I suppose. I didn't offer you a proper meal, after all, so it's on me. Sig? Hey, don't look down, it's fine."

"You wanted toast, though," Sig's big, half-lidded mismatched eyes continued to look forlorn, as though having to alter breakfast plans was an unspeakable sin. Never mind that most of the morning had already slipped away so anything eaten now would practically be 'brunch'.

"I said it was fine, so it's fine! Come here, see if anything piques your interest," the mage gestured, rummaging busily in the icebox.

"'Kay..."

At the opposite end of the kitchen and its humanoid infestation, the newly-liberated and very, _ very _ unhappy book-bound spirit repressed its pent-up irritation from its nook on the counter. Its book of word puzzles did little to improve its attitude but at least it gave it a focus _ other _ than the mage and his empty-headed annoyance of a guest. Every once in awhile it would glance up from its pencil scrawlings, glare, and return to the columns and rows of empty boxes, dutifully filling each one in while it fantasized about jamming _ Sig _ in the breadbox, in one big piece or otherwise.

Very, very well adjusted, that one.

"Look, you were planning on going home to change anyway, right? Why not pick up a few things on the way back here? That way I can stay and start transcribing what we've finished so far," the academic offered, setting out a juice pitcher and his comestibles of choice, "and you're still helping. I'll give you the money. What do you say?"

Sig paused, a piece of fruit and his half-finished muffin in hand. As hard as he tried, his penmanship was... not good, to put it kindly. He sat at the table, a hint of disbelief in his tone as he asked, "you can read it?.."

"... Yes? Some of the smaller margin notes are trickier, but I'll manage. This isn't the first time I've dealt with it, either. Honestly?" He rifled through a cabinet, producing two glasses while ignoring the evil eye the unhappy book demon gave him, "it's gotten a little better. Not _ great_, but it's more legible than some cursive I've seen."

"Really?" The cyan-haired somnolist's mood visibly improved, bizarre plume-like hair returning to a neutral state. Praise, even this slight and critical kind, was rare to hear from Klug. Chewing on the somewhat stale muffin, he recalled his notion from yesterday, the one about the glasses-wearer maybe being sick. That_ would _explain a few things...

"If I didn't mean it then I wouldn't say it, now would I? Anyway," he continued, pouring drinks and starting to pick at some form of unidentifiable leftovers, "there's still a lot to get done. How do you feel about staying over again? I'll feed you properly this time, too. Well?"

On one hand, the bug catcher didn't want to be any trouble. On the other hand, it would mean more time and less pressure to finish the paper. It would let him keep an eye on Klug, too, and make sure he was okay. Still...

"Um, wanna bring my ladybug this time. Won't cause any trouble, promise..."

Of _ course _ he'd want to bring one of those _ things _ with him. At least it wasn't a biting or stinging insect and its huge size made it hard to lose track of. Where did he even _ find _ one that big? Reluctantly, Klug nodded and mumbled, "just please, _ please _ keep it off of me."

"... And wanna cook, or help, at least. Sound okay?"

"You... can cook? _ Really?_" The words sounded far more incredulous than he perhaps intended, but it was a legitimate surprise. He'd expected that Sig would want to bring some bug or other, but...

The small, uncomfortable noise his friend made verified that he'd sounded too harsh, too dismissive. Was it really that much of a shock? As far as he knew, Sig lived alone, and didn't seem the type that could afford to live off of takeout. Necessity, and all that, implied at least a _ basic _ proficiency.

"Sorry, sorry, that came out wrong. If you insist on assisting, I suppose that's fine. Have anything in mind?"

Sig ruminated, chewing on a piece of what looked like a pear. _ Something basic, something hard to screw up. _ His claws tapped the table's surface, drumming a monotonous rhythm as he thought. Tappity. Tappity. _ Tap. _ Swallowing the bite, he extended an open carmine palm and suggested, "curry?.."

"You've been hanging out around Arle, I take it?" The magic user from another world practically_ introduced _the stuff locally, popularizing the adaptable stew-like dish. Again, Klug felt a pang of envy. There were so many things he wanted to ask the lady mage about her magic and the place from whence she came, but...

"Sometimes," the boy shrugged, "curry's okay?"

"Yes, yes, just tell me what you need and I'll start making a list."

"Sounds good," the entomophile chirped, then glanced around surreptitiously and whispered, "umm, Klug? Your book's... weird."

".... Really." An accurate observation, if an obvious one.

"Mmhm. Seemed really upset last night. Why?"

"Honestly? I haven't the slightest idea. When it's _ that _ upset, well," the mage waved dismissively, "there's no reasoning with it."

_ It? _ Odd. Yes, it was a weird yelling ribbon-like creature living in a book, but Sig had the vague impression that it was a 'he'. While it was impossible _ not _ to have seen the little red thing before as Klug lugged the book around with him practically everywhere, there was something else faintly familiar about its presence. Not the warm feeling of half-remembered nostalgia but something more... troubling. Still, he couldn't quite put a finger on anything specific. _ Better not to worry, _he supposed, shoving the nebulous mess of thoughts to the back of his mind.

"Happens often?"

"W-well, I wouldn't say _ often_," Klug mumbled, pushing his glasses up unnecessarily, "but Ayashii's temperamental from time to time. Don't let it bother you."

The largest points on the semi-corporeal entity pricked up like the ears on a cat, catching the barest mention of its name. Still glowering, it stared in Klug's direction and hissed, then just as quickly resumed its word puzzle with renewed fury. The savage _ scratch scratch _ing of the pencil was loud enough to hear across the room.

"... Would apologizing help?"

Stopping to consider it for a moment, the scholar shook his head, "I doubt it. Aya isn't fond of people, putting it mildly. An apology wouldn't mean much. Bribery or stroking its ego generally work, however."

"Um, how? Egos aren't... things?" The idiom was lost on Sig, trying to figure out how one could literally pet an intangible concept. Still, at least he knew what an ego _ was_.

"Praise, flattery, that sort of thing. It likes feeling important, basically."

"Oh." The edges of the somnolist's mouth curved into a slight smile as he privately mused, _ sounds kinda familiar... _


	9. Invited Chaos

Breakfast (or brunch, based on the time) settled and the grocery list completed, a smug smile settled on Klug's face. Considering the late start, this morning had been completely satisfactory so far. Sure, at some point Ayashii would break its silence and give him a figurative earful, but for now things were peaceful and everything was in order.

...

It's that way of thinking that practically _ invites _ chaos.

There had been one pesky thought lurking in the back of the bug hunter's mind since yesterday, one loose end that he really wanted to tie up. Still, if he asked, he knew the green-eyed mage would decline. It was a harmless enough thing, though, and easy. Would it _ really _ be so terrible to just give in? So, _so_ tempting...

Double-checking the list before handing it over, a shiver ran up the scholar's spine as he got the distinct impression that he was being watched. Cautiously, he raised his head, staring into a set of gleaming, half-open eyes. One of scarlet flame and the other the deepest sea, oddly determined and almost... predatory. If Sig wasn't, well, _ Sig, _ it would be borderline terrifying. No, strike that, _ definitely _ terrifying. Even so, the intensity made him uneasy. He swallowed, trying to rationalize with his heart to stop hammering quite so hard.

"Um, S-Sig?" Barely managing to wring out the words, he put down the pen and paper, "did you need somethi-"

Unable to resist, Sig moved forward purposefully, and, in a single smooth motion, swept his nervous classmate off of his feet and into his arms mid-sentence. _ Not very heavy, _ he noted, _ a little awkward. _ It wasn't the weight throwing him off, but balancing it, solved easily by shifting his grip and putting the brunt of the burden on his left arm.

Caught completely and utterly off-guard, Klug blinked, unable to think and muster any form of protest. Yesterday's exchange with his half-asleep friend had slipped his mind entirely and left him completely unprepared. He simply... froze, a deer in a hunter's lantern. It was all he could do just to blink, just to breathe. 

_ Warm_. Held against Sig's body like this, so, _ so _ close... so, _ so _ warm. As he inhaled, he couldn't help catching a subtle, musky scent with earthy notes. There was a strangely soothing quality to it. Meanwhile, the rational side of his brain protested the entire business, seeking to preserve his fragile ego. _ This is degrading, _ it shrieked, _ this is undignified! _Consumed as he was by this internal struggle, every function, save the autonomic ones, simply ceased.

It was probably for the best, considering that the treacherous red spectre was _ howling _ with laughter, having a field day seeing his one-time host blank out in confusion and shock.

It only got better when the noise came, a knock at the door.

"Hee hee he-yeeeah, you should... probably get that..." Ayashii fought to regain enough composure to speak. It could happily cackle at Klug's dumb, wide-eyed stare all day, but this was in the service of a _ greater _ cause: the possibility of further humiliating the arrogant youngster was too good to pass up.

Distracted by the need to answer it, Sig ambled off, still toting the mute dark-mage-in-training in his arms. Answering the door wasn't a problem, save for turning the knob. His hands full, so to speak, he gently asked his passenger, "open it, please?"

Despite a tiny voice in his head screaming, pleading it not to, Klug's hand grasped the knob and turned it automatically, no thought required whatsoever.

Amitie._ Wonderful_.

"Oh goodie, I thought you guys might be out or some... thing?" A chipper statement turned into a question as she stood in the open doorway, the glowing smile on her face broadening. "Oh hey, Sig! Klug! So how's the project going, huh?"

"Slow, not bad though. Yours?" The bug hunter tilted his head, feather-light bangs swaying with the small movement.

"Ugh, good, but it's so boring! Who needs to know about magic and rocks?! For _ really _ real, who cares if earth-based spells can get a tiny boost with malachite? What even _ is _ a malachite, anyway?!" She threw her hands up melodramatically, not truly mad but wanting to advertise her exasperation with the subject.

_ Put me down put me down- _

"Copper based carbonate, green, usually," someone else used Klug's wavering voice to speak, "commonly a gemstone."

"... Oh. That's... cool, I guess! And hey, you can talk! You just look a _ teeny _ bit out of it, so..."

_ Put me downputmedown- _

"Needed the book?" Sig offered, trying to be helpful.

"_ Oh! _ Yeah, that's why I stopped by! Yeah, the Obscure Glossary of Whatchamacallits. I also really, _ really _ needed a break," she bent forward at the waist, as useful for stretching as it was illustrative, "I mean, Lidelle's a great partner but she asks if it's okay any time she has to change or add something. It's okay, it's a pair's assignment and I'm not supposed to _ be _ her boss! I'm not gonna be mad!"

Chuckling softly, Sig nodded in sympathy, then suddenly remembered "oh, book. Um, hold on."

"I am _ totally _ not in a hurry, so take your time! _ Seriously_!" The sprightly girl beamed, bouncing lightly on her feet, happy for any excuse to dally and forget about minerals for awhile. It's not like she and the adorable overly-apologetic girl with the horns started their project _ late _or anything. The Glossary of Obscure Magical Terms was mostly for double-checking a few things before finishing it up.

_ Oh, _ the bug catcher realized, _ can't pick it up_. For whatever reason, the obvious solution didn't come to mind, so again, he requested, "umm, Bookworm? Mind grabbing that?.."

_ Putmedown _ ** _putmedownputm-_ **

Klug's mouth moved by itself, with no conscious input, "... sure, not at all."

"Thanks."

"... No problem."

While Sig seemed happily oblivious, to the outside observer the whole performance was on the strange side. What baffled Amitie the most was how calm Klug seemed to be. No flailing, uncontrolled weeping or anything! Mondo weird! Usually being grabbed at the wrist or patted on the back would startle him, but he was cool with _ this? _ Whatever, maybe the stick-in-the-mud was becoming less... stick-y.

"Here," the bound volume was handed off without a modicum of emotion, good _ nor _ ill, glassy eyes staring into the middle distance.

On second thought, maaaybe he _ wasn't _ cool with this.

"Um, Sig? Did'ja do something to Klug? He seems kinda... kooky. Maybe you should kinda think about putting him down?" She held the book in both hands, swaying forward and back on her heels as she spoke. 

"Hm? Oh," her dozy-eyed classmate blinked as a sudden realization hit. Gradually, he let the spaced-out academic down, supporting the bespectacled one as he gradually found his feet.

Shakily, Klug leaned into his quiet classmate as he gradually regained control of his limbs, balled fists clutching the fabric of Sig's shirt for insurance. Taking a deep, rattling breath, he waited for his head to clear. A single green cat's eye stared out at Amitie from the mess of brown bangs which pleaded to be combed.

_ Uh oh. _ The bouncy young lady took a step backwards, suddenly wondering if speaking up had been a bad idea. Still, if the celestial mage went bonkers it was better _ not _ to leave her best friend to face that on his lonesome. Dealing with flaring emotions, especially anger, wasn't something that came to Sig easily.

The soft, passive voice of her wobbly-legged classmate came as a _ complete _ shock.

"Tell... no one," Klug's voice was so quiet that it was hard to hear, barely above a whisper, "_please_."

"...Oookie-dokie, that's, uh, fine by me! Um, are you feeling okay?"

"Stressed," the entomophile sighed, answering for the cowering form, "not much sleep, either. Still lots to do..."

...That... didn't seem to explain _ everything _, but it was enough. Giving an over-enthusiastic thumbs up, Amitie happily replied, "ooh, gotcha. I should get back, too, so Lidelle doesn't think I ditched. Later!"

"Bye, Ami," smiling, Sig gave a small, mellow wave with his non-supporting arm.

After a few paces, she whipped around again, rocking on her heels and looking cheerful as ever. "_Oh! _ Yeah, Klug, don't worry, nobody's gonna hear about your, uh, whatever this was. Try and have fun, kay?"

"Yeah... I'll try," he muttered, well-aware the words were too quiet to cross the ever-widening distance.

"Bookworm, gonna be okay? Wanna sit down?"

Those eyes, so soft and compassionate. That voice, steeped in genuine concern... it was so _ infuriating_. The mage wanted to shriek, tear himself away and tell the doe-eyed simpleton that it was _ his _ fault that he felt like a wobbly mess. _ His _ fault, for making him look like an idiot in front of their mutual classmate. _ His _fault that... that...

With a juddering sigh, Klug slowly nodded, allowing himself to be ushered back inside, fists curling tighter around the fabric they grasped. He only let go when in proximity of the sofa, flopping down like a freshly de-boned fish. After moments that seemed like decades, he found his voice at last, mumbling, "think she'll tell everyone?.."

Puzzled, Sig looked as though he didn't understand the question, brow furrowing as he tried to make sense of what seemed an extraordinarily strange inquiry. "No?.. said she wouldn't, so she won't."

"Huh." Was it really that simple? _ Must be nice, _ his inner monologue scoffed, _ having that much faith in someone_.

"Umm, Klug..?"

"_What_?" It was more of a hiss than a reply, a release of frustration more than a means of communication.

Sinking down in front of the couch, Sig drew his legs up to his chest, curling up like a pillbug prodded by a curious child.

"... Sorry. My fault. Again," an expression that could only be described as baleful took hold of the youth's face, aquamarine bangs only able to obscure some of it as he grumbled, "keeps happening..."

That... that was the kind of admission the scholar had wanted, right? If so, then why did it feel so unsatisfying? Why did it hurt?

_ Nocte cometes, when did you become such a softie?! _ True, the bug catcher hadn't meant any harm. Yes, it was simply Sig being _ Sig. _ Okay, even if Amitie blabbed it wouldn't be _ that _ damaging.

"It's alright, Sig," reaching out a limp-feeling arm, he let out a frustrated sounding sigh, blindly pat-patting the top of his peer's head, "just _ ask _ next time, alright?"

It took a moment to process, to give a reply, his hair-tenne twitching. _ Next time? _ "O-oh... 'kay."


	10. Our Fault?

With the cyan-haired somnolist out and about, Klug had finally been able to partake in a much-needed shower. It was more out of habit than a requirement for cleanliness, a mindless sort of activity that provided an opportunity to relax and reflect while still getting _ something _ done.

Relaxation, especially, was something he was in dire need of.

_ Stars, _ how could a single person be so much trouble, drive him so far up the wall, test his patience _ so much _and yet come just short of breaking it? Sympathy only went so far, after all. There was something else, something he couldn't quite put his finger on. 

It was pointless to dwell on, he supposed. If he knew, he knew. If he didn't, well...

At least now the mage felt refreshed and more centered. Now, maybe, he could start rewriting some of his classmate's henscratch into something more legible. The light was better in the kitchen so he chose to relocate there, bringing the somewhat haphazard collection of rough looseleaf with him.

The outline was fairly solid even if it was borderline hideous to look at, a mishmash of neat copperplate entries and scrawled notations. Collating everything was going to be a job in itself. Still, with a good structure, everything would fall into place. Hopefully.

Oh, _ right_, he still had _ that _ to deal with, too. _ Sigh. _

Two tiny yellow eyes smoldering with hatred bored into the insipid creature that, for the briefest time, served as its vessel. While the other, the half-soul, had been present, it had bided its time, furiously scribbling in a book of crossword puzzles. Now, it just floated ominously, arms crossed, one hand still clutching the pencil.

"... Do you feel like talking now or are you just going to glare at me all morning?" Frankly, the scholar would have been more than happy if the little red apparition wanted to silently glare at him. At least he could shuffle papers without fear of being pelted with a lead-tipped missile: it was simply too far to reach from counter to table.

"If you ever, EVER allow ANYONE to stuff me in the breadbox again, I'll... I'll..._ I'll_..." Ayashii, the little book demon, bristled, its voice raising an octave with every repetition.

"You'll do _ what_, exactly?"

"SOMETHING! Something you'll regret, probably for the rest of your short, miserable little existence!"

Sipping at some juice, he glanced askance at the prickly crimson being. Shaking his head, he sighed, "look, I'm sorry you had a rough night. _ Everyone _ did. If you'd have just _ talked _ to me instead of shouting incessantly then you never would have wound up in there."

Tapping the pencil like a billy club, Aya muttered accusatorially, "you're still pretending that you DON'T know why I was angry? Cute, REALLY cute."

"It's not an act."

"So, you really ARE that stupid? Really?!"

With a small shrug, Klug replied, "it seems that way. Feeling generous enough to enlighten me?"

"You... oh, WOW. This is, well, it's," the fury seemed to drain immediately, replaced by an uncharacteristic giddiness, "this is AMAZING! Oh, wow, this's HILARIOUS! So you really, REALLY don't know?"

Even though the mockery was at his expense, the mage could accept it if it meant getting answers or at least kept Aya from endlessly screaming again. The voice may have only been in his head, but _ stars _ it was loud.

"_ Soo... _ how much do you know about your empty-headed little friend? Anything? Anything at all?" The sealed soul's voice dripped with malice, utterly delighted to lord whatever knowledge it had over the insignificant life form before it. Aya was _ loving _this.

It was unnerving how overjoyed the crimson nuisance seemed over such a question. Uncomfortably, he offered, "he's afflicted by some sort of curse or som-"

_ Gleefully_, the tiny red pest cackled in genuine amusement, "oh, this is the BEST! Seriously, that little blonde number, what's-her-face-"

"Amitie? What's she got t-"

"Yeah, yeah, Emily. You're going to LOVE this; she got closer to figuring it out than YOU. You, the 'future leader of the magic' whatever. This's just too much, this is so GREAT!" If the conceited spectre could cry, it probably would be by now. As it was, it just kept snickering every time it tried looking Klug in the face.

"_ What's _ great? If you're going to laugh at me, I'd at least like to know why!" Irritated, the novice dark mage seemed to be losing his patience. One could only take so much ribbing, after all, without snapping.

"She-figured-out-that-we-were-related," it chanted in a sing-song voice, "you-nev-er-not-iced! Yeah, Amery-"

"Amitie."

"Phhht, close enough. ANYWAY, Amway didn't know specifically HOW, but she got way closer than YOU did. Isn't that just so precious?! Talk about embarrassing, I mean, you were THERE during the possession incident, but I guess you forgot or repressed the memories or SOMETHING. Humans really are delicate."

Klug... really didn't like where this seemed to be going. Last night, the ranting little poltergeist had called Sig 'half-a-soul'. If it wasn't just the mad ranting of an underappreciated-feeling apparition...

"Figured it out yet? Have ya'? Have ya'?" It gleefully needled him, all jagged smiles and reveling in this little game.

Everything, or _ nearly _ everything, clicked into place. That explained Sig being able to hear its ranting, despite never being possessed. Klug just... sat there, all thought of the project abandoned. His throat felt parched, despite imbibing liquid just moments before. With great difficulty, he croaked, "Sig's... part of you?"

How was that even _ possible_?! The tiny red sadist was well _ beyond _ just old. His friend wasn't, or at least didn't seem to be. If the mage hadn't already been sitting down, he would've had to now.

"It's a LITTLE more complicated than that, more like it HAS a part of me. That empty-headed husk isn't my original body but is definitely descended from it. Somehow. I kinda don't want to think about it," Aya shuddered, "I mean, THIS one's pretty brainless, so the original would've been even more of a blank slate. A zombie, practically. Gross."

A descendant? That... sounded plausible. Still, there was something more important he took exception to. Trying to muster some authority in his tone, Klug muttered, "Sig isn't an 'it'."

The book demon stared, as though it hadn't anticipated that reaction. It waved the pencil dismissively in the mage's generally direction. "Phhhht, you talk about it like 'Sig' is a real person or something. Fifty, maaaybe sixty percent human at most. Depends on how the genetics work out over generations. Demon chromosomes are REALLY aggressive, you know. Kinda need to be, there never were that many around, even back th-"

"You can't use percentages that way. Corrupting mathematics to define personhood... that's just sick." Arms crossed, Klug's voice was utterly cold and humorless. Apparently, _ someone _ hit a nerve.

"My, my," the incorrigible little monster _ grinned,_ "someone's awfully defensive. What, is 'he' your little buddy now or something? Actually, an empty mindless shell sounds like just your type! One that MIGHT be able to put up with y-"

"_Ayashii. _Drop it, unless you really want to return to the library. Please."

_ Please_? The tiny ne'erdowell intended to come up with something cutting to put the upstart in his place, something _ devastating_, but there was an uncommon seriousness in the youth's emerald eyes. Klug had threatened to shelve Aya before, but this time he might actually _ mean _ it. The kid rarely stood up for himself whenever the disembodied soul felt vindictive, but this was for the mongrel half-a-soul's sake. Interesting...

In truth, the 'please' was completely genuine. However abrasive the book-bound spectre could be, it was knowledgeable and mostly harmless outside of that one incident. He'd have a hard time admitting it, but the academic usually enjoyed its company. In some respects, he kind of pitied the demon, forcibly split in two and living in exile among scores of dusty tomes. That didn't excuse its current obnoxious behavior, however. This had crossed a line oft skirted by the wee red phantom.

The silence told Klug all he needed to know. Sedately, he continued, "I'd appreciate it if you didn't tell Sig about this. I can't demand that you be polite to him, but please_, _if you can't manage that then just ignore him. Can you do that?"

The little spectre huffed, rapping his pencil on the countertop with a repetitive 'tap tap'. The mage hadn't left it much room for argument. Shrugging, Aya scoffed, "yeah, I guess so. If it-"

"_He._"

"Phhht, fine, if HE talks to me first is it acceptable to answer, oh Lord Regent, or do I have to fill out a permit or something?" If it had pupils Ayashii would have rolled them. As it was, it still managed to look suitably indignant.

"I never said you couldn't talk," sighing flatly, the academic stared at his half-empty beverage in contemplation, "just try acting civil. It's against your nature so it won't be easy, but I'll try to make it worth your while."

"Bribery again? What is it this time, another rare book? Honestly, if yo-"

Still apparently transfixed by the glass, Klug raised a hand, digits extended. "_Three _ rare books."

That seemed to satisfy the cantankerous crimson entity. It seemed to smirk as it cackled, returning to its crossword puzzle, "yeah, I think that'll work. You know me well, kiddo."

_ Sig wasn't fully human? _ He rolled the concept around, not really sure what to make of it _ or _ what to do with it. It wasn't so much the mixed heritage itself that he found concerning, but what that _ meant _ for his classmate. The bug catcher never mentioned anything about it, so there was a distinct possibility that he didn't know. How do you just casually bring that sort of thing up in polite conversation?! 'How are you, oh, did you know you're probably not what you thought you were for your _ entire life_?'

Furthermore, if the little crimson menace and Sig shared a connection... _ radiant heavens, _that could imply...

Apart from the scratching of lead on paper, the kitchen fell ominously quiet. Eventually, even Ayashii noticed the lack of, well, _ anything _ apart from the sound of its own scribbling. Aya was happy so why was Klug so... well...

The mage's hands were steepled and he just kept staring at the translucent vessel before him, unmoving apart from the odd blink.

"Y' know, I don't think you can divine anything from juice. You need a fire for that sort of thing, and oranges aren't very flammable. I WOULD suggest burning some toast if your little pal didn't eat all the bread..."

It went in one ear and out the other.

"Keeeeluuug, did you have stroke or something? Come on, I'm trying to be friendly and you're just ignoring me! This is just cruel!" Aya mewled, sprawling flat on the countertop in a mockery of anguish. "C'mon Klugsandra, stop trying to tell the future and SAY SOMETHING!"

"... Is this our fault?" The beverage-prophet finally broke his silence but remained still otherwise. He let the question hang in the air, apparently waiting for an answer.

"What, about the bread? I guess it's sort of my fault for not calming down, but bug-boy actually ATE the thing. You have some sentimental attachment to baked goods, now? You're becoming one weird guy, you know that?"

An invisible weight seemed to hang around Klug's sagging shoulders, making his tired sigh seem a monumental effort. Emerald eyes flicked to the babbling red entity, then made the arduous journey back to the kitchen table. "It only started after he moved here, closer to us, closer to _ you_. The timing's too perfect to be a coincidence."

"... You think the arm situation is my fault? Even if I COULD_,_ why would I risk drawing more attention to that half-breed? I may be petty but I wouldn't shoot myself in the figurative foot just to make one idiot's life difficult. That's what YOU'RE for!" It snickered and tossed the writing implement skyward, intending to catch it coolly but failing. The pencil bounced, rolled and fell to the tiles below, well out of the tiny book demon's reach. "Dangnabbit, I think the lead broke, too!"

"Indirectly, perhaps. You picked up on his presence sight-unseen. If you're both connected as you claim to be," his brow furrowed, a guilty expression creeping into his features, "it's... it's probably our fault. _ We're _ responsible."

Frantically waving its diminutive arms, Ayashii either didn't notice or didn't care about his former host's revelation. It tried reaching for the tool itself but found itself tethered roughly one-quarter short. Miserably, it whined, "c'mon, disembodied soul in distress here! If you help me then I'll listen to your gloomy conspiracy theory, deal?"

Expressionless, Klug rose to retrieve the lost object. His movements were stiff, bordering on robotic as he knelt and picked the pencil up in his hand. Dispassionately, he examined the tip: a fraction of lead splintered off but enough was left to use without difficulty. Passing it on to Aya's waiting hands, he returned to his seat without saying a word.

His entire body, no, his entire _ being _ felt numb. However much he desired power he didn't want to hurt anyone in the process. That was the main reason he'd never asked Schezo about an apprenticeship. In addition to being a virtual recluse, there were... rumors. Unproven, yes, but Klug had no desire to have his magic stripped from himself. Not fatal, perhaps, but presumably very, _ very _ painful.

Not wanting to drop it a second time, Aya hugged the pencil to itself like a teddy bear. The normally boisterous human seemed to be increasingly sullen. Although the red soul offered to listen it had been perfectly aware of what the kid had been saying. The little pest took pleasure in needling the mage from time to time but never tried actively making him depressed. It wasn't an act of kindness but one of pure selfishness. Klug was his transportation and if the idiot was too despondent to leave home, _ Aya _ couldn't leave.

The split-soul cringed, loathing what it had to do. It took all of its effort to force out a sympathetic tone as it spoke, "look, sometimes coincidences are just coincidences. Sig's arm thing didn't go nuts even after picking me up, right?"

"... That doesn't necessarily mean anything." The corners of his eyes glistened, seemingly on the verge of tears. His hypothesis genuinely appeared to bother him.

"Ugh, FINE. The subtle approach isn't working, so I guess I have to spoon feed you. I'm ninety-nine percent sure it's not either of our faults and it was just bad timing, okay? I can't be one-hundred percent sure because of the human contamination," Ayashii dramatically sighed whilst massaging where its temples would be, "but something like this usually happens to most demons. It's just part of growing up. Don't they teach you dummies anything like this in school?"

Klug listened, but remained silent. Divulging useful information without first trying to get something in return was dramatically out of character for the spirit. He'd have thought Aya would at least try to wheedle a _ fourth _ rare book out of him.

"... I'll take that as a 'no', then." Great, just _ great. _ It liked to think of itself as an intellectual, but never a lecturer. Where to begin? At least Aya wouldn't need to simplify things _ too _ much. As much as it liked to poke fun at the kid, Klug did possess a shred of intelligence, maybe even _ two _ if it felt charitable.

Even with numerous omissions, it still took awhile to get through. The scholar stayed quiet for the most part, absorbing what seemed most relevant and trying to apply it to what little he already knew. When the tiny book demon felt talkative, listening to it could be _ fascinating, _even allowing for the gaps and hazy parts in its memory. If only it had been for leisure instead of practical reasons, he probably would've enjoyed Aya's spiel.

"-But like I said, there are variations depending upon caste. It gets muddier since he's a dilute. That arm, for example. For me, with some effort those could be repressed once I learned how. Imagine turning pages with those things!" Ayashii screeched piteously, "they were such a PAIN! So many dented book covers, and the pages, oh, THE PAGES!.."

_ Interesting. _ "So in theory, Sig may be able to?"

"Eh? I guess it's not impossible, but that ability might not be there at all. I honestly have NO idea. In my day, at least, the existence of hybrids wasn't exactly encouraged," it took to tap-tapping its pencil again, "so actually studying 'em wasn't a thing, either. Y'know how it is: exile those involved, forget them and move on."

_ Exile? _ That seemed unreasonably harsh. It wasn't all that surprising that the little red antagonist seemed so hostile toward Sig, then, owing not only to his mixed lineage but what he was mixed _ with. _ Still, it wasn't "his day" anymore and coexistence was standard practice... even if it wasn't always obeyed.

"But yeah, if you want anything more specific to half-bloods or less, I have zero details."

"Why are you being so helpful?.."

The little demonic entity bristled in annoyance and huffed, "you wanna know? It's because I KNOW you. If you start feeling guilty you'll get all sulky and depressed and you won't be good for ANYTHING, and I want my books. It's unnecessary AND inconvenient. Savvy?"

So it _ was _ for selfish reasons. That came as something of a relief. The day Aya started doing things out of the kindness of its heart would be the day puyo hell froze over. Still, there was one more thing Klug really wanted to know, something that bothered him about the book-bound soul's speech. 

"Ayashii, I'm curious, would you mind sharing _ how _ you're so certain that Sig's a-"

"It's a feeling. It's especially strong since he's my original body's descendant, AND he's got my missing half. Why? Don't want to believe it? I don't, either, but I'M stuck with the mistakes my idiot descendants made." It crossed its arms again, but not before carefully setting the pencil down so it wouldn't roll off unexpectedly. Priorities.

"Would other demons be able to tell, hypothetically?" _ Or those with ties _ ** _to_ ** _ them, _the mage privately speculated. It would explain why he felt odd in Sig's presence sometimes...

"Yeah? Why, you're going to ask the old man in the bear costume since you don't trust me?"

"If you were in my position, would _ you _ trust you?"

"Hey, I don't lie about stuff! I OMIT things! It's not the same at all!"

"This isn't a minor matter. I'd want to be absolutely certain before even _ contemplating _ saying someth-"

"Other than just ASKING 'hey are you not entirely human?', if at least one of his biological parents is dead, that's a big hint right there."

"W-why would that be a _ hint_?!"

"Well, if you've only got half a soul to begin with, what do you think happens if it's suddenly removed? And I really, REALLY don't feel like explaining the minutia of demon reproduction right now, okay? Don't you have stuff to do, anyway?" Sick of the inquiries and annoyed by the brat's skepticism, the crimson entity started scribbling again, wanting to finish its current puzzle.

"O...kay, then," clearing his throat, the mage stretched his hands as he prepared to work on the paper, "hey, Aya?"

An annoyed sounding mumble was the extent of its response.

"Thank you. You didn't do it for my sake, per se, but knowing we're _ probably _not the cause of Sig's, um, problem... it seriously is a relief," with a small smile the spirit was unlikely to see, he started setting the pages in order, "I would've kept blaming myself."

"If you want to thank me, take me to the bookstore after classes tomorrow. There're three books with my name on 'em."

"Sounds fair enough."


	11. Do Bugs Have Mid-Life Crises?

Finished rewriting what had been completed so far, Klug stood, stretching his arms and back since he'd been sitting still for quite awhile. No longer focused on the paper, his mind started to wander. Sig hadn't returned yet. _ It shouldn't have taken him this long_, he silently groused, wondering just _ where _ in Primp his project partner had disappeared to. It was probably nothing. The boy _ was _known for his lackadaisical nature. Maybe he'd seen a butterfly and gotten distracted.

Still, if that_ was _ the reason for Sig's absence, he couldn't help but feel a little disappointed. To him, it seemed like the bug catcher had been taking their assignment seriously. The scribbled notations penned in so many margins certainly _ suggested _ that. If the cyan-haired youth genuinely wanted to improve, he had no strong objections to lending a hand.

_ If _ he, you know, asked. Simply _ offering _ seemed too desperate. _ Desperate? Why use that term? _ ** _Stars,_ ** _ you'd only be asking him over, _ the irritable part of his brain scoffed, _ it's not like you're asking him ou- _

"Yo, braincase. Six letter word, starts with 'g', has an 'o' for the third letter. Ideas?" Ayashii seemed to have mellowed considerably, actually willing to _ talk _ to the human unbidden... or at least use him for the odd word search query.

"... Hm? Sorry, I was-"

The tiny book demon glanced up from its puzzle, tapping the pencil impatiently, "-was too busy NOT listening to me, I know. Six. Letter. Word. Starts with 'g'. 'O's the third lette-, uh, Klugsandra, you're looking a little flushed. Maybe you should sit down or-"

"Goober," the mage hastily interjected, leaving the kitchen behind so he could continue fretting in peace.

"HEY! I'm not a- oh wait, yeah, this works. THANKS PINKY!" It snickered to itself, moving on to the next blank.

Klug collapsed on the sofa, hands on his face. _ Nocte cometes, what is your problem?! You shouldn't _ ** _be_ ** _ worried over a simple study invite, _ he sighed, further sinking into the material, _ you've done it before! _

Maybe he was trying to give himself a respectable-sounding pretense, an excuse to have the oddball around more often. He'd already need the entomophile to stop by every week or two to keep track of the carmine skin's spread. Wasn't that enough? Maybe it was simple curiosity. If the somnolist _ had _ a partially demonic lineage, that was fascinating by itself. Interest in his power, perhaps? Sig _ was _ physically stronger than his frame suggested, and he had the feeling that the dozy idiot was capable of more powerful spells if he'd just _ try_. Maybe it was a combination of the two.

... Or he just felt lonely. Sig was exasperating but didn't mind being around him, or at least didn't _ seem _to.

_ Stars, you really are a confused mess, aren't you? _

_ THUD. _

Seconds later, another _ THUD _ followed the first.

The door. It sounded like a mailbag smacking into i-

THUD.

"Hold on, hold on! I'm coming, just-." Voice raised, he struggled to extricate himself, scrabbling for the door, "wait a minute!"

_ Oh. _ It was immediately clear _ why _ the attempt at a knock had been so heavy sounding _ and _ why they hadn't just announced themselves like a normal person. Not only did the sleepy-eyed weirdo have his arms full, but his _ mouth_, as well.

_ Stella lucet, does he _ ** _always _ ** _ have to be so strange?! _Every time the mage thought he'd seen the extent of Sig's aberrant behavior, his classmate presented yet another example.

"_Sig! _What in the world..."

"Hrm? Mm mmfth eth frr..."

"_For the sake of the heavens_, why're you carrying things with your _ teeth? _ Honestly, Sig... here," he gingerly grabbed the sides of the satchel, not particularly wanting to find out if the odd-looking packmule had drooled on the strap or not, and carefully sat it on the floor.

"Ah, better. Tried to say, 'my mouth is full', but..."

The mage's eyebrow twitched involuntarily as he sighed, trying to free his classmate of the self-imposed burden, "I... I could've figured that out just by looking at you. Really, why didn't you just make two trips?! I wouldn't have been completely opposed to helping you, either, you know?!"

"Figured you'd be busy," he shrugged, gradually placing all that he was carrying down safe and sound, "transcribbl- um... _ copying _ stuff."

"_Transcribing_, actually. You were close. But honestly, did you think I'd say _ no?!" _ He put his palm over his face, partially hiding his increasingly flustered expression.

"... Maybe?"

"_Sig, _ I'm not a-" _ monster_, he was about to say, but suddenly rethought his choice of words, "-a _ complete _jerk. I didn't think you'd bring half a marketplace stall back with you..."

_ Twitch_. Hair-tenne wavering, Sig shook his head, "isn't _ that _ much. Stalls're too big to-"

"_You know what I mean, Sig, _" Klug hissed through his teeth. Groceries in hand, he turned to glance at the simpleton and noticed the tiniest smirk. Eyeing his classmate warily, he mumbled "... you're messing with me, aren't you?"

"Maybe." His expression broadened, if only by a little.

Sig _ was _ messing with him, no doubt about it, and the smirk seemed to be contagious. On the mage, though, it could only be described as 'smug'. "So you're _ not _ completely humorless, then."

"Guess not. _ Oh,_" the comedian glanced at the various cargo he'd brought with him, snatching up one paper tote out of the mess, "here. Bought lunch. Thought it'd save time."

Peering out from around the doorframe while he started to sort out materials, Klug warily glanced at the bag, wondering what the bug catcher thought an acceptable lunch _ was_. "Ah... thanks? What is it?.."

Beaming, his half-closed eyes sparkled as he came over to show off his prize, "buns. Two melon, two kinds of fruit. Didn't know which flavor you liked." A thought crossed his mind, the little puffs on his head leveling out, "um, didn't use your money for 'em, don't worry."

Not the most _ balanced _ choice by any means, but perfectly acceptable. It _ would _ save some time, even if that kind of pastry was easy enough to make at home. Some other time, perhaps.

"You didn't have to pay for them yourself, Sig," sighing, the academic washed and dried his hands, a hopeful note in his tone, "does one happen to be cherry?"

"Mmhm. Want that one?" Since the kitchen table was mired in paper, Sig chose to set it on the coffee table instead, also wanting to make sure his ladybug was comfortably settled before taking care of his own hunger. He'd been sure to provide more than enough food in the insect's carrier: a few choice leaves littered with aphids and eggs. While he pitied the minute, greenish bugs, without them his friend would starve. Some insects _ had _ to consume others to survive. That was just the way things worked and nothing he did could change that.

_ Yep, looks fine_, he noted, a gentle smile on his face as he watched the red and black insect flutter the hard shell which protected its delicate wings. It surely wouldn't hurt to take her out for a _ little _while. Opening a hatch in the lid, he offered a clawed finger, letting the beetle choose whether to scale it or not. The tiny creature scuttled upward, settling on the back of Sig's intimidating looking hand, her squat antenne wavering to inspect its environment.

Watching insects had a calming effect for Sig, providing a feeling of peace whenever he was worried. It wasn't often that he _ did_, mind, as he preferred to just accept things as they were and move on. The arm situation wasn't one he could cast aside so easily, so his hobby had become more and more of an obsession to keep him occupied.

"Probably want lunch, too, huh?" He whispered, not wanting to startle his pet, providing her a path back into the carrier and giving the tiniest of tiny nudges as encouragement. Obligingly, the pretty insect settled on a leafy part of a branch, preening its face with its forelegs. "Cute..."

"Well-behaved, at least," Klug spoke, leaning over the back of the sofa. He'd remained there for awhile without saying anything, not wanting to startle Sig and thus startle his creepy little companion. Really, the last thing he wanted to do right now was to chase a loose, flying beetle around the house.

Leaning backwards, the placid-looking entomophile's upside-down face stared up from the couch cushions. "Sorry. Waiting long?"

"Not really. I didn't want to interrupt and scare your, uh, _ friend_."

"Vi. She's almost one-and-a-half."

"Months?"

"Nah," the bug catcher looked up at Klug patiently, clarifying, "years. Average about three."

Trying to keep the mood light, the academic smirked, chin resting on his hands, "sooo she's middle-aged? What's the insect version of a mid-life crisis like?"

"Don't have 'em. Well, don't _ think _so..."

"You've never asked?"

"_Klug. _ Can't talk to bugs," a small grin spread on the youth's face, still upside-down, "'cept bookworms."

There was more smarm than charm in the novice dark mage's voice as he leaned forward on his hands, "you _ like _ talking to bookworms?"

... Then Klug mentally kicked himself, realizing what he'd just said. The pause between the question and the reply just made him feel worse.

Blinking a few times, Sig's head moved in what might have been a nod if it hadn't been stifled by the sofa cushion, "usually. Kinda bossy sometimes, but..."

Not sure if he wanted to know the answer or not, he asked, "but..?"

"Has a reason, most times."

"I... I see. Well, if you'd care to clean up a bit, I can bring something to drink over. Water work for you?"

"Um," both his friend's disparate eyes narrowed in confusion, "aren't supposed to eat out here..?"

"Most food from that shop comes in sleeves _ and _ you aren't half-asleep this time. Provided you don't drop the entire thing, it shouldn't be a problem." _ Then I don't have to move the papers again, either, _he left unsaid. It wasn't laziness, but disturbing the organized notes just to eat simple pastries seemed counterproductive.

The two sat side by side, eating flaky fruit pastries, one watching the bug skitter in the carrier and the other looking anywhere _ but_. Still, Klug had to admit it was peaceful, maybe even nice if he felt especially generous. It almost seemed a shame that the break wouldn't last longer.


	12. Less Talking, More Writing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Conversations are certainly distracting, sometimes... especially when family comes up.

Frustrating. Flipping through another glossary, the bug catcher still hadn't found what he was looking for. "... Missing something." 

"Hm?" Klug barely looked up from his draft, penciling in a new side note with short, deliberate strokes. Very neat, very orderly.

"Isn't here, either," Sig grumbled, placing the botany guide aside with the previous volume, "useless..."

"_What _ isn't there?"

"Moonsunflower variants. Just regular ones..."

The scholar finally looked up from his writing, giving the entomophile an odd look and pushing his glasses up despite not needing to. "Variants? _ Sig,_" he tried to sound patient, tried to bury as much condescension as possible, "'regular' ones are rare enough. If they're not in the books, maybe they don't-"

Making a strained noise in his throat, he shook his head, his cyan bangs swaying. Entirely earnest, his mismatched shone as he insisted, "they _ do_. Blue ones. Really pretty, too..."

It wasn't much of a shock that Klug didn't believe him, but it still stung to be doubted. Lying didn't come naturally to him. Besides, keeping a deception going seemed to be a lot of work and they almost always fell apart, anyway, hurting everyone involved. It was simpler to just not, even if the truth hurt.

The skeptical mage raised an eyebrow, wondering if Sig had mistaken something _ else _ for a rarer bloom of an already rare plant. Still, the list of nocturnally blooming flowers was a short one... the main varieties could easily be counted on one hand. Even if the stubborn fool was wrong, surely it wouldn't hurt to listen for a moment. The greater the details, the easier the folly could be spotted. "Fine, fine. So have you _ seen _ one, personally? I'd love to, naturally. There aren't too many plants with a celestial affinity..."

Sig... became quiet and seemed to shrink a little, claws closing a bit too firmly around his pencil and snapping it in two. He dully looked at the writing implement and started brushing the fragmented splinters of wood into his palm. Almost whispering, he mumbled, "um... never mind..."

Great, just _ great_, now Klug _ really _ wanted to hear about this supposed variant. Rifling in a small case, he produced a replacement for the broken pencil, holding it out to the supposed demi-demon. "I'll let you have this if you'd be so kind as to tell me. They're made from slightly better quality wood and might break less easily."

Almost tempted but still unsure, his hair-tenne dipped as he waffled. It wasn't _ that _ big of a deal and happened years ago, but Klug _ did _ have something of a reputation as a snitch, even over small things. Though, if he had the studious one's word...

"Can't tell Ms. Accord, promise? Don't want trouble for anyone..."

Green eyes sparkling with new interest over a potential scandal, the mage couldn't agree fast enough. Even if it _ was _ all nonsense, it could be potentially entertaining. "Yes, she won't hear a word. Continue, please."

Taking the offered pencil, Sig carefully placed it alongside the remains of his original one. Slowly tapping the tabletop with his fingers, he took a breath and held it, then gradually exhaled. "Class flowerbed... remember? Around the time all that weird stuff happened..."

"Sort of. Said 'weird stuff' sticks in my mind a little more strongly than that particular project, understandably."

"Mmhm, guess so. Um, were supposed to collect the seeds once they died, turn 'em in-"

"And you pocketed some? Sig, that's hardl-"

"_No_," he rose from his chair and flattened out his hands, looking more disturbed than was appropriate even if he _ had _ committed such a 'crime', "s-some ants did. Needed food, so..."

Klug could do little more than blink, bewildered at both how mundane the little 'story' was and Sig's defensiveness surrounding it. He motioned for his friend to continue, wondering if it got interesting at any point.

"... Offered 'em something better. Worked. So, got some moonsunflower seeds, but wasn't sure how teacher would take it. Didn't want her mad at me _ or _ them." His claws curled inward, his voice raising as he 'argued' on the little creature's behalf, "didn't know any better, Klug, they were hungry!"

Shocked by the loudness of his own voice, his hair-tenne twitched as he sank back into the chair, returning to his normal docile state as he murmured, "food's food to foraging formicidae."

Ants? He had been so worried about protecting a colony of _ ants_? Leave it to Sig to only sound truly passionate in defense of a colony of six-legged pests. Not a hint of the flower variant so far. Klug _ still _ wanted to know, so he simply nodded, and made a small sound of encouragement.

"Couldn't return 'em, couldn't throw 'em out, so, well, planted 'em. Took longer to grow," he reflected, a gentle fondness in his features as he said, "finally bloomed during a blue moon. Petals were blue, too."

"... You _ do _ know that blue moons aren't actually blue, right? And since when have you had an interest in astronomy?"

"Mhmm. Don't know much, but someone kept talking about it." A hint of a smile. That memory was particularly strong not only because of the flowers, but because it marked the time when the Klug finally started to act like himself again following _ that _ incident. Sig hadn't been around long enough to know what was normal for the fidgety mage, but Amitie and Lidelle attested that the gloomy aura definitely wasn't. Yes, the cocky braggart could be grating, but it was better than a silent ball of misery.

"O-oh. I... yes, I suppose I did. It's just not that common an occurrence, Sig, and, w-well, you know..." His words trailed off as he averted his gaze, growing more self-conscious by the moment.

"Mmm, were excited and wanted to share. Isn't wrong."

The words of support made the academic even _ more _ uneasy. He was used to assuming his words fell on deaf ears, that nobody actually _ listened_, let alone remembered anything. Rubbing the back of his neck, he desperately wanted to think about something, _ anything _ else and drop the subject.

Clearing his throat unnecessarily, Klug tried to change tact. "Ah, s-so, what happened with those plants..?"

"Lived, made seeds, died. Seedlings haven't bloomed yet," a small shrug as he tested the new pencil, "waiting. Last year's were blue."

"I... I see." Making no effort to mask his disappointment, the mage started to flip idly through the nearest tome, looking without really seeing the pages. Traveling in the darkness wasn't especially safe or feasible, so the only way to see them would be to stay overnight at Sig's. Even if the bug catcher made the offer, he wasn't sure he'd _ want _ to accept. Chitinous creatures weren't exactly his favorite things, and who knew _ what _kinds his peer had lurking there. He couldn't get past the mental image of waking up, covered in beetles... just the idea made his skin crawl.

Needing to banish the horrific thought, he started babbling again just to fill the dead air. "Ah, Sig? I've been wondering, you seem fairly familiar with greenery. I'm not _ complaining_, but... well, I didn't think you had much interest in anything with less than six legs."

"Mom," such a short and abrupt reply was Sig all over, but the bug catcher seemed to realize that it wasn't much of an answer and added, "is, um, an apothecarist. Doesn't live close. Miss helping out.."

Klug recalled his earlier conversation with the acerbic book demon, the part about... parentage. 'Is' seemed to imply a living mother. If _ both _ were alive and well, the crimson soul's arguments became less valid. Maybe Aya was wrong, or had just been playing him for a gullible fool. _ Again_.

"That makes sense," the bookworm tried to sound casual, scribbling randomly to seem busy, "and your father?.."

Apart from a slight flicker of those odd hair-like puffs, he showed no particular feelings one way or another as he began to flip through another book. "Dunno."

"Oh. I… I didn't know.” Klug winced. The answer appeared to bother him than it did Sig, who he felt would’ve been perfectly justified to lash out and berate his callousness, scorn him for opening what was undoubtedly an old wound.

“Not important,” Sig squinted at an entry, penciling in an entry on a page marked with a mantis, adding almost as an afterthought, “dunno my mother, either. No big deal.”

“But you just said-”

Oh. Klug’s confusion wasn’t hard to understand. Apparently the mage didn't make a distinction between the two titles. “Adopted. Blood doesn't matter. Mom... loves me anyway.”

… How could Sig say that blood didn’t matter?! It was practically the only thing Klug’s parents seemed to care about, that and his scholastic performance. "You don't have _ any _idea? That's... Sig, I'm sorry."

"Don't be," the sleepy-eyed somnolist sighed, starting to tire of repeating himself, "Bookworm, _ isn't a big deal._ It's okay. Can't miss 'em without a memory."

Somehow, that just made the scholar even sadder. "Sig..."

Those big green eyes looked on the verge of tearing up. Why, _ why _ did it upset the mage so much? It wasn't important and the unnecessary sympathy was getting uncomfortable, not that he let it show. Idly tracing shapes with a fingertip, he tried to change the subject, asking, "yours? Curious. Never seen 'em."

Immediately, Klug straightened, his body going rigid. It was a perfectly natural segue, one that shouldn't have caught him so off guard. Trying to adopt a haughty air, he readjusted his glasses before he spoke. "W-well, they're both esteemed mages whose specialties are rather in-demand, so it's not unusual that they travel frequently throughout the year..."

Sig silently listened, head propped up on his mismatched hands.

"It's not as though I _ never _ see them, their schedules are just, well, complicated. I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself, taking care of things here. It's... it's an honor to be trusted that much, it really is!" Increasingly flustered by his project partner's silence, it seemed as though he was trying to convince himself as much as Sig. "I'm not a child anymore. It's... it's _ fine. _"

"Still miss 'em, though." The bug catcher's words were a statement rather than a question. Very direct, very much to the heart of the matter.

"Tch! Their constant presence isn't _ required_. Being on my own doesn't bother me, alright? It's _ fine._"

A raised eyebrow implied that his protests were less than believable. The mage squirmed, trying much too hard to justify the absence and how little it affected him. "L-look, it's not as though they don't _ care_, I mean, obviously I have everything I need. Sig, they're just very important! Their _ work _ is important..."

"Oh." Sig just looked at him sadly, as if saying _ and you're not? _ "Um, send you letters, at least?"

"S-sometimes." _ Almost never_, he privately reflected, loath to admit the lack of even _ that _ level of communication. Even those were impersonal, usually itinerary or inquiring about his studies. "You get letters, I take it?"

Why was the bug catcher looking at him like that? Was that pity? He wasn't the one without birth parents. He wasn't from a one-parent household. So why were those half-lidded eyes so full of sympathy?

Still, the somnolist didn't challenge the assertion. He just nodded, returning to his doodling. "Mmhm. Every week. Sometimes more."

_ Every _ ** _week_**_?! _ Sharp talons of jealousy dug into the scholar's heart. While he wouldn't _kill _ to get friendly correspondence that frequently, he'd surely agree to almost anything else. Still, what could he do? Just bury the feeling. Focus on the paper.

"Klug..?"

"Hrm?"

"What's wrong? Don't mind listening," his voice a soft drone, he gestured with an open palm, "if y' want. Won't tell anyone."

"I... n-no, nothing's _ wrong_. I," Klug sighed, looking over the small stack of pages he had yet to transcribe, "I just want to finish this, that's all. The paper."

_ Aren't a good liar, Bunny_. Still, if the mage didn't want to share, pressing wouldn't help. Talking... could be hard. At least he'd made the offer.

Back to the task at hand, Sig pondered something and asked, "um, blue-moonsunflowers... gonna add them? "

"Maybe it's better _ not _ to mention them. Avoid having Ms. Accord asking _ how _ you know. Sounds sensible to you?"

"... Might score better, though," the doodlebug scribbled in the margin, drawing what might have been a mantis, "numbers matter to you."

The bookworm's breath caught in his throat. Surely he'd misunderstood. Sig wouldn't risk possibly confessing to what he felt was a crime for a number boost. Someone who was so easily satisfied with merely passing wouldn't _ really _ consider how a shared assignment affected their partner.

... Although, Klug had already noticed the effort in that abominable henscratch Sig called handwriting.

Coughing, he adjusted his glasses again. "I... I wouldn't feel right potentially getting you in trouble over a few points. Besides, you've really been tryin-"

"Won't be perfect, though," Sig mumbled, still adding detail to the small image, "accepted _ your _ help. Wanna help you, too."

"_Sig_, enough. I don't want martyr's blood over a _ single _ paper grade. These... these are generally scored less harshly since working together isn’t the easiest thing. We're both trying, so that should be good enough."

Head resting on the kitchen table, Sig gave him the look one gives an owlbear in a business suit. "Wasn't gonna _ blee _-"

"It's just an expression! Besides, if you _ did,_ it'd make it harder to read and I still need to transcribe the rest of this. Oh, and do you have the last page for the section on roots?"

"Umhmm... drew a cricket on i- here, got it."

"... _ That's _why you kept drawing bugs on each page? It... it makes it easier for you to find them?!"

"Yes? Can't number 'em until it's done. Needed _ something_."

... Was it a bad thing that Klug almost considered the answer _ reasonable_? Was this what descending into madness felt like? On the bright side, the absurdity served as an effective distraction from his troubled emotional state.

_ Merciful heavens, please, _ ** _please_ ** _ don't let this type of peculiar be contagious. _


	13. Beetle Break

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Why does Sig like bugs so much?..

Obtuse filing system aside, the differing sections of the report fit together relatively well. Not seamlessly like bread and butter, but perhaps like coffee and tea: two which were distinct yet similar in some respects. The only aspect that was one-hundred percent Klug's was the writing of the final draft. He'd been absolutely insistent and all but shooed his partner out of the kitchen.

It made sense, but it still seemed unfair not to split the task. Wanting to do_ something_, Sig had been gathering up the reference books and packing as many as possible into his satchel. He stopped short of filling his classmate's bag, however, aware of how particular the green-eyed mage was when it came to organizing pretty much anything.

_ Bored_. Tidying didn't take very long even at the bug hunter's relaxed pace. Left at a loose end, he naturally gravitated to watching the ladybug scuttling in her carrier. The beetle had sated her hunger earlier and was now casually investigating a leaf, prodding it with a foreleg to test its stability. Unfortunately, Vi wasn't the lightest insect, and the greenery was too flexible to support her. _Have to find something stronger_, Sig noted, opening the carrier and offering a path out to his tiny friend. As was usually the case, she climbed up his fingers and settled into his palm.

In the rare case where the beetle declined, Sig didn't push her. Like all coccinellids, Vi was capable of making a literal stink if she felt threatened, secreting the tiniest amount of toxic alkaloid-rich fluid from her joints. Both smelly_ and_ upsetting, he'd always taken great care to avoid prompting the defensive reflex bleed. So far the beetle hadn't been stressed enough to use the disturbing ability. Hopefully, she never would.

Insects were uncomplicated, for the most part. Predictable. With enough time and observation, their actions usually fit into definable patterns. It was... reassuring... that ants would always behave like ants, moths like moths. He subtly turned his hand as the ladybug started to explore, giving her a level surface no matter where she went. Vi didn't have any difficulty climbing despite the odd texture of his left arm: keeping an eye on her was a necessity since he couldn't feel the prickling of the beetle's tiny feet on the surface of the abnormal skin.

Hopefully Klug could find out_ something_ about the strange arm, even if it was irreversi-_ stop it,_ the bug catcher scolded himself,_ thinking about it won't_ ** _help_**_. _

Besides, getting flustered might upset Vi...

At least it wasn't_ all_ bad. Beetles in general seemed to like the warm surface, though most were flightier than ladybugs and took off at the slightest movement. Predatory coccinellids were more tolerant, maybe due to their position in the food chain and confidence that very few would even_ try_ to eat them. Their red coloration was... a warning…

Sig stared at his arm, even his fingertips a deep vermillion. Did… did it mean something simil-

_ Don't. Won't help. _

... Maybe it would be better to return the insect to the carrier. The minor distraction wasn't worth stressing the beetle. Carefully, he tried offering a new path onto his right hand. Of course, when he really_ wanted_ Vi to move, she refused, tiny hook-ended feet anchored to his sleeve.

_ Stubborn_. He couldn't help but smile a little, amused by the hard-shelled creature's obstinance. 'Loyalty' wasn't really a thing to insects, he knew, but it still made him feel a little better. Vi felt comfortable enough to stay despite his troubled thoughts, grooming her squat antenne without a care in the world.

Watching the cute bug behaving so calmly, as though nothing were wrong... things weren't really so bad._ Couldn't_ be.

That was why he liked insects, at least in part.

... Even the stubborn ones.


	14. Curry Night!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where are the knives?

_ Finally_. The report, easily the size of a small novel, was complete at last.

Next on the agenda: food.

Eyeing the small collection of spice jars his guest had brought from home, Klug was both somewhat impressed but amused by how the hodgepodge melange was as mismatched as their owner. Though, he supposed, it made them easier to identify and harder to mix up. If his own salt and sugar containers hadn’t looked nearly identical… maybe Lemres would’ve… _ never mind_. He shoved it aside, since what was done was done and could never be undone. _ That _ was a cringeworthy memory if ever he’d had one.

Sig handed over a piece of cardstock, covered in handwriting that clearly wasn't _ his_, save for some barely decipherable henscratch on the side.

Readjusting his glasses, the celestial mage mumbled, turning the card in his fingers, "and this is...?"

"Recipe. Arle's. Um, writing’s rough, sorry…”

“No kidding. Well, I suppose it can’t be helped.”

‘Tenne visibly dipping, the sad-eye somnolist apologized _ again_, knowing that it wouldn’t help, but…

“Why are _ you _ apologizing? Yours is barely visible but I can make most of it out. This is _ Arle’s _ handwriting, you say?” Tsk-ing, the academic mumbled under his breath, “incredible magical abilities, but this penmanship… it’s her second language at least, I know, so being harsh is… I wonder how’d she’d react to an offer of…”

Perking up slightly, but not entirely, Sig shook his head. “Um, wouldn’t. It might seem mean. Has lots she’s worried about. Also,” holding his open hands up beside his head, be tried to make a crackling noise, “might get set on fire. Again.”

“I’d… I’d rather avoid that, yes. I, well, thank you for the reminder.” Unlike Amitie, Arle seemed ready to battle anytime, anyplace, _ anyone_. At least the good-natured blonde was more likely to drag a person into a giddy conversation than a surprise fight. Practice was all well and good, but being in the middle of a book and getting frozen mid page turn was… off-putting. It wasn’t exactly healthy for the book, either.

“Can read it if you want.”

“You don’t have a problem with that? Normally, I wouldn’t mind, but if I stare much longer I’ll risk going cross-eyed,” sighed the mage, rubbing his forehead wearily, “transcribing everything took longer than I anticipated…”

“Sure. Need a break,” Sig beamed, though his eyes remained half-lidded as usual as he scrubbed his hands, “worked hard. Where’s the, um-”

Klug was absolutely _ adamant _ against having _ anyone _ rummaging through his perfectly ordered kitchen, especially not the scruffy little bug hunter. “_No! _ N-no, that’s… I said I’d accept your assistance, but I couldn’t ask you to do everything! You’re a guest, after all…”

… Maybe it was a mistake letting Sig work with the cutlery. The boy was so mellow, so laid back that Klug feared that anything left under the bug catcher’s supervision on the stove would inevitably result in a fiery, blackened mess cemented to the bottom of the cookware for time infinitum. Knives were less fussy to care for and harder to ruin. Still, the mage couldn’t help worrying as his classmate studied the blade, getting a feel for it in that sandy red palm of his.

“Just… please, _ please _ promise me you’ll be careful, alright?” Klug had absolutely _ no _ desire to verify just what color the bug hunter would bleed if the knife slipped. While the sight of blood lacked the power to make him faint, he didn’t _ like _ it, especially other people’s. Worse still, it’d be on _ his _ tools, in _ his _ kitchen. _ Please don’t hurt yourself… _

“Gotcha,” Sig chirped, then started sorting through the vegetables with the tiniest of tiny furrows in his brow. The source of his vexation: a potato. Making a small noise, he rolled it down the counter to a watching Klug. “Um, mind peeling? Kinda… hard.”

_ At least he’s _ ** _trying_ ** _ not to skin himself_, the mage smirked, accepting the rolling tuber and fishing out a paring knife. Not what he’d _ prefer _ for a task, but this was, largely, Sig’s baby. One naked potato soaking in a bowl later, on to mincing and starting the roux.

Amazingly, neither lost a _ single _ finger. Yet.

“Um, saying ‘sorry’ now,” mumbled the onion-chopping somnolist, “spices aren’t all the same. Can’t get ‘em all here. Tried.”

A strange thing to apologize over. The academic shrugged, stirring to keep the flour, butter and spices from burning. “_Sig_, that’s hardly a surprise. Honestly, I’m glad we’re omitting the lizard, at least.”

“Huh. Thought you’d wanna follow the directions…”

“_Not _ when it involves live lizards, no. This sort of thing’s more, well, _ flexible_,” Klug muttered, removing the roux and tossing the onions into the now-vacant pot, “baking, now _ that _demands precision. Too much meddling and nothing turns out…”

“Oh. ‘Kay.” Unusually passive, Sig fished the potato out and quietly started to chop it, returning the pieces to the bowl.

“... You didn’t know, did you? Honestly, Sig, I don’t know _ how_. You’re obviously not helpless in the kitchen. I didn’t even _ need _ to tell to put the potatoes back in the water! You don’t like ovens or som-”

“Don’t have one.”

“... Oh. That’s… what?! Really?!”

“Mhm. Not a big deal, didn’t try much at home.”

“B-but what about bread? Cookies? Those melon-y things you’re so fond of?!”

Tilting his head ever so slightly, the curious looking entomophile pointed with a clawed finger, knife still in hand. “Um, stirring?”

“What? I don’t-_ oh_!!” In his distraction, the know-it-all had stopped paying attention to the onions. At least they’d merely started to caramelize rather than burn. Relieved, he added in some strangely-cut carrots. Were they supposed to be cut almost diagonally? “S-sorry. I just… well, I… you know?”

“No..? Don’t, sorry.”

“So you just _ buy _ all of your baked goods, is that it?”

“Sure? You don’t?”

“... No. I mean, _ sometimes _ I’ll pick up something on a whim, but that’s it.” Bristling a little, Klug waited for the inevitable-

“Why?”

Stirring too aggressively, the mage muttered something hard to make out. “...”

“Hm?”

“I… it just helps me relax, okay? Yes, I _ know _ it’s weird, and it probably doesn’t make _ any _ sense to you, but that’s… that’s just how it is!” No weirder than his friend’s hobby, but he knew it wouldn’t make sense to ‘waste time’ making baked goods when it was so much simpler to just go out and buy them.

“Got it.”

“I’m _ sorry _ that it seems th-... wait, what did you..?”

Another curious head-tilted, aquamarine covering most of his eyes as he repeated, “got it.”

“O-oh. That’s… well, good. I’m…” Somewhat at a loss, the book lover prodded the vegetables, not sure how to respond. He… hadn’t really expected that response.

“Don't mind listening.”

“Right. I mentioned baking’s precise? It’s, well,_ predictable_, most of the time. It’s consistent.”

“Bread’s always bread, muffins always muffins?”

Narrowing his eyes, Klug gave him a side-long stare, the tone of his voice lowering. “Yes. You’re not making fun of me, are you?”

“Nah.”

“Good, because if you mock me…”

“Not mocking.”

“... I won’t make you melon buns. _ Ever_.”

“Bunn-_ em_! K-Klug, you could?..”

“Pff, a trifle. What, you said it yourself: I’m ‘good at lots of things’. Your lack of faith in me is _ most _ distressing…”

“N-no, um, know you _ can_,” the supposed demi-demon’s hair-like antenne flickered, the agitation making the mage glad he wasn’t cutting anything as stumbled, “just not for…”

“It’s not _ just _ for you, make no mistake! I have a fondness for cherries, myself, so I figured it wouldn't be _ too _ much extra work to make a few in another flavor. Wednesday. Lunch. Sound good?”

“Um, sure? Wanna trade? Not sure what-”

“Unnecessary. Consider it payback for the buns today, yes? Mine should be better, of course,” he couldn't help but flash a self-assured grin, “but we’ll just consider that interest…”

“Interest..?” The word was familiar, but the bug catcher had trouble with the context.

“A bonus for waiting, Sig.”

“Oh. Got it.” A tiny, but warm smile as he checked the similarly small recipe card, wondering if he’d remembered everything he needed a knife for. Oh. _ That._ “Um, sorry Bookworm, sorta need an apple. Trade?”

A smug look still on his face, the celestial mage acquiesced, trading the spoon for a paring knife once again. “So, how did you manage to make this before having a more nimble set of hands at your beck and call..? And didn't you mutter something about this being grated? I have one, someplace.”

“Don't worry, just peel. _ Can, _ just… takes longer. Isn't as nice. Kinda… get cuts.”

“... You use a knife at home, too? _ Sig_, they do make less dangerous ones, you know.”

“Oh. You have one..?”

“Tch, _ no_, it’s,” _ for amateurs, _he was going to say, but quickly revised, “it’s personal preference. Less clutter, you know?”

“What clutter? So much space…”

“If I didn't keep it in mind it’d _ be _ cluttered in no time! Your apple, by the way.” Trading the apple back, he added stock and a couple more necessities to the vegetable-heavy mixture. “So, what do you-”

Cutting the flesh from the core took seconds. Holding the sliced pieces in his left hand, he prodded Klug, wanting a little space beside him by the stove. “Um, just a sec.”

_ Squish. _

To be fair, the pulped fruit was passably close to grated. Once he was sure no excess juice was dripping from his demonic-looking palm, he took it back, quietly licking his fingers before rewashing both hands.

“_SIG_!! It said _ grated_, not _ crushed_! Why did you..?”

“Easier. Saves time. Also,” he made a small noise as he dried off, “makes the dumb hand good for once.”

“O-oh. I… well, I suppose so.” Klug felt nervous again, not really wanting to denigrate one of the few legitimate uses his friend had found for the odd limb. _ At least he washed it earlier_, his internal commentary sighed, _ so it’s just strange and not incredibly gross. _


	15. Crickets?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Do not get Klug started about stellar phenomenon.

The curry had been a massive improvement over the paltry muffin-heavy fare of the previous evening… maybe _ too _ much of an improvement. The scholar _ might _ have overeaten by a _ slight _ margin and was feeling decidedly logey. Still, it was too early for bed, yet too late for an interim nap, plus he wanted to double-check the report before turning in. Probably fine, but checking it again would ease any nagging doubts.

… And he _ always _ had nagging doubts.

It was impossible to tell whether or not Sig was afflicted by the same symptoms of overindulgence, watching his ladybug slowly scuffle along his hands, a mellow look of contentment in his half-lidded eyes. On the surface, the bug lover always seemed so calm, so laid back… though, from the incident in the library, the mage suspected it wasn’t the entire truth. However muted his peer’s feelings were, he still appeared to_ have _ them. Just because he wasn’t moved to tears by frustration didn’t mean he didn’t experience it.

Flipping through another error-free page, Klug glanced around the report again, watching the way Sig handled the over-large beetle. So gentle, and so careful not to push the insect beyond the limits of its comfort. With a tiny smirk, the mage went back to error-checking. He supposed that level of delicacy was why, despite the strength Sig’s out-of-place arm possessed, he never felt scared around him. 

… Granted, _ Vi _ still made his skin crawl, but the bug was nearly as calm as her keeper.

A muffled giggle made him close the report. Apparently, the coccinellid had enough of wandering from hand to hand, fluttering a little as it perched atop Sig’s head. _ Stars, he looks so happy… _

Noticing Klug watching him, the somnolist blinked, hair-tenne giving a small flicker as he softly apologized. “Um, sorry,” he said with a content-sounding hum, “tarsal claws kinda tickle.”

“An apology isn’t necessary. I’m fine provided she keeps her sticky little feet out of _ my _ hair. Deal?”

“Mm hmn, deal. Em,” with a querulous glance, the bug catcher murmured, “know they’re not really ‘sticky’, right? Just little hooks?”

“I believe you’ve_ probably _ mentioned it before…”

“Oh. Guess so,” his expression was its customary one of half-asleep nonchalance save for hint of a smile, the insect seeming more like a bizarre hair accessory than a live creature, save the movement of its feelers, “kinda babble about bugs a lot, huh?”

With a small shrug, Klug susurrated, not seeming to be bothered in the least. “No worse than I am about magical theory or the cosmos. I’m… _ probably worse_, actually, if given the chance. Not that it’s… well. Never mind.” Coughing unnecessarily, he tried to drop the subject, not intending for the statement to be taken as a complaint.

“Oh.” Sig considered what the mage had said until Vi rattled the hard casing of her shell. Apparently, the pretty little beetle had tired of hanging out. _ Probably hungry, too, _ he surmised, letting his chitinous friend make her way onto his hand then back to her carrier where she immediately began stalking the juicy aphids. Smaller examples of her kinda would manage fifty or so of the tiny creatures in a single day. Vi managed double that, easily. Great for plants, but a practical massacre for the greenish pests. Not wanting to watch such a hemolymph-bath, he wandered off to wash his hands before returning and standing behind the sofa, trying to read over his classmate’s shoulder.

Noticing the shadow cast over his reading material, Klug almost yelped in alarm, hastily clearing his throat and mumbling, “y-yes? Did you need something, or..?” _ How was he so quiet?! _ Sig… never really struck him as the stealth type, but there he was, curiously peering at the report.

“Wanna?”

“Hm? Pardon?”

Despite the silence that had passed since their brief conversation, Sig had picked it up right where it left off. Apparently, it slipped the mage’s mind. No matter. “Have the chance to babble. Wanna?”

“_Sig_, nobody in their right mind would volunteer for that…”

“Mean.”

Raising an eyebrow, the celestial mage closed the report and placed it on the table, careful not to prod the insect carrier with the corner. “Why? Astronomy, especially. It’s not-”

“Curious. Like the daytime sky more, but…”

Though… there _ were _ phenomena visible during the day. Klug started mentally cataloging them, then stopped. Was the doe-eyed individual watching him serious or mocking him? _ No, _ he discarded the idea of it being malicious, _ I’m not sure he _ ** _could_ ** _ even if he wanted to. _ Hesitantly, he mumbled, “seriously?..”

“Can’t _ make _ you, but serious, yeah.” Why did the mage have such a hard time accepting the idea? It was fair: Klug listened to some of his bug facts, after all.

Adjusting his glasses, the scholar considered what would be the _ least _ dull celestial-adjacent topics and which volumes in his library contained them. Which of those had pictures or, at least, sketches? Without something visual, he had little confidence of holding the entomophile’s attention. Maybe he could draw something himself… while not a masterclass, surely he could sketch-

Deeply buried in thought, he squeaked like a frightened kitten as Sig sat down next to him unannounced. Effectively exhumed, the mage spluttered, “n-not yet! I need time! I have to pull a few books at least, sort through those, maybe pen some dia-”

“Just talk.”

“B-but, I want to make it interesting… or, you know, _ try _ to…”

“Klug, talk.” Surely the mage could rattle off _ something _ from memory alone. It’s not like he was asking for a detailed presentation, just, well, _ stuff_. It didn’t have to be orderly, be organized or anything like that.

“Well, there’re… there’re several phenom-ah, _ things _ that’re visible in broad daylight. Some are pretty rare, like comets, but if you know where to look, several planets _ are _ visible under the right conditions…”

Going on to list those particular conditions in detail, Klug was pleasantly surprised that his audience was conscious and at least _ seemed _ to be listening. From time to time, Sig nodded, or made a small sound that could’ve signified interest, emboldening the celestial mage further. He gesticulated, trying to keep the bug catcher’s attention.

‘Mmn, so, comets? They’re like ice?”

The scholar simply _ stared_. Was it a lucky guess? Maybe he’d mentioned it some other time? Had he brought it up already and been repeating himself? Flustered at the thought of retreading the same factoids in the _ same conversation_, he remained quiet, trying to recall _ just _ what he’d said.

Staring back, the somnolist blinked. _ Guess not_, he figured, though why that made his classmate go all quiet was another question entirely. “Um, nevermin-”

“Y-yes! Not entirely, but, ah, more rocks or dust, but… did I already say that, or…?” Slightly frantic-looking green eyes stared from behind the academic’s glasses, fearful of what the answer would be.

“Your comet spell’s cold… crickets?”

“C-crinis?..”

“Mmhm, that one.”

Aghast, Klug shrunk from the bug catcher, absolutely certain the boy didn’t know the language he used in casting. Was mind-reading a demonic ability, or was it something else, something potentially sinister? "_How do you even know that’s comet-related?!” _

“Said so? Talk about your spells, um, lots.” Innocently, the potential demi-demon blinked again, wondering if he’d said something wrong. “You okay?..”

Now, Klug just felt stupid for overreacting, settling back down in a stiff, statuesque manner. Lifelessly, he quietly continued, “they’re… mostly dust and rock. Some call them icy dirt-balls, but that’s rather degrading… it makes them sound worthless.”

“They’ve got tails?”

“S-sure, yeah.”

“Are they ice?”

“_No_, Sig, they’re mostly dust and gas. In fact…”

Correcting the beginner’s error made Klug unwind a little, going on to describe how each tail was a unique blend of material, the coma and what it was made of, an-

A heavy weight thunked into his shoulder, startling him into silence again. Apparently describing ionization was a _ little _ too much for his companion, who had, predictably, fallen asleep. _ It had to happen eventually, _ he guessed, _ he made it further than I thought he would. _

Maybe calling it an early night was for the best. Gently, he nudged an elbow into the sleeping bug catcher’s side, trying to coax his friend into wakefulness.

“Mhmn…” Mumbling in protest, Sig squirmed a little and slid closer to the scholar. Seemingly drawn to the warmth, he snuggled against the mage’s arm.

“Ridiculous.” With a soft sigh, Klug tried again, with similar results. Unless he shoved and shoved _ hard _ … _ no, _ he groused, _ it’s not worth it. _ The mass against his side wasn’t painful, no bony elbows or fingernails jabbing into his skin. Effectively having one arm pinned was a minor nuisance, but tolerable. It was… okay. Sig was quick to drop off, but usually didn’t nap for long. Waiting it out shouldn’t be difficult.

It took a little stretching, but he managed to snag the corner of the report again, dragging it over and propping it open on a knee, flipping pages with the arm that wasn’t pinned to his side by the dozing somnolist. Less efficient, but doable.

The peaceful, measured breathing of the sleeper droned as the studious one read, a faint hint of a smirk on his face.

This wasn’t bad. This wasn’t bad at _ all_.


	16. Sleepover!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What do full-body tackles have to do with chocolate?

“You sure? Don't mind the couch…”

“_Sig, _ it’s not nearly as comfortable _ and _ there’s school in the morning. If you’d prefer the sofa, that’s fine,” with a small shrug, Klug leaned against the wooden banister, fussing with his pajama sleeves, “but it’s not like you snore or anything. Um, unless _ I _do. Do I?”

_ Talk in your sleep, _the bug catcher smiled on the inside, but shook his head in response to snoring. “Nah, don't. Really don't mind?”

“Ask again and you get the floor, Sig.” The scholar’s pompous grin was intended in jest, but then he remembered who he was talking to and started to splutter, “t-that was a _joke_! I’m not that lousy a host-!”

A soft, muffled chuckling met his ears. Apparently his guest found his flailing funny. Better than being known as the jerk who denied his guests even the smallest comforts, he supposed.

“Figured. Aren't that mean.” His mismatched eyes seeming to glow as he peered playfully over the edge of the couch back. “Didn't think sleepovers were, um, _ you_, though.”

This time, at least, Sig had appropriate attire. Where one would find a sleep shirt and short set in dragonfly print was a mystery. Unless, of course, they had been made specifically.

“W-well, sometimes people surprise you, you know..? You’ve been to a few, I take it?”

“Sorta..? Dunno if it counts, kept trying to wrestle…”

“... _ Taru _ did?”

Rubbing the back of his head sheepishly, Sig murmured, “nah, Wuf-umm, _ Raffina_. Hard making chocolate and dodging. A training thing? Not sure…”

“I… I see.” Klug lied, trying to figure just _ what _ had led to full-tackle overnight chocolatiering, but not sure he _ wanted _ to know. Thinking, though, he just became more and more curious. “Why..?”

“Needed extra hands. Wasn’t doing anything.”

That _ almost _ made sense. “Wait. _ Sig_, you can make…?”

“Sorta? Just helped. Stirred stuff. Probably could?..”

“_R-Raffina was the mastermind?!_”

Looking confused, the odd hair-tenne twitched. “Mhm? Really good at it. Truffles at last festival? Those were hers.”

Was it _ really _ such a bizarre combination of interests? Astronomy, dark magic and baking weren't exactly related either. Maybe it was the idea of Raffina doing, well, _ anything _ domestic. Although… hadn’t she made sponge cake at some point? Less fussy than working with chocolate, but it wasn’t _ nothing_. Interesting, though the information wasn't of practical use. Raffina always seemed annoyed by him, more likely to put him in a headlock than anything. Granted, that wasn’t _ all _ ba-

“Um, Klug? Doin’ okay?”

“Y-yes!” He almost snapped, wandering mind yanked back to the present.

“Wouldn’t mind trying again. Easier without getting ambushed, probably.” Extending an open, clawed palm, Sig offered, “wanna?”

“I…” The academic mumbled something under his breath, suddenly reverting to his shy, passive state that happened whenever his ego was damaged.

So mellow, but so _ expectant_. Clearly, the bug catcher wanted an answer one way or the other. It was either lie, claiming he was simply too busy, or… or...

“I… I can't,” Klug squeaked, face burning from the admission, “I’ve tried and it just… doesn’t work.”

Arm dropping like someone just cut the only string supporting it, it flopped against the back of the couch. The plumes on his head wavered as he slowly blinked. Cautiously, he offered his other hand. “So..? Still could.”

“Unless you specifically want burnt candies, then _ no_. No, you do _ not_.” Crossing his arms, the mage slumped a little, wearing his displeasure on his sleeve.

_ Burnt_? So… he either left things alone for too long, or let them get too hot. Not hard to fix, but Klug seemed determined not to talk about it. Confused, Sig decided to drop the subject for now, but _ still _ thought it was odd. What else was there to talk about, though? Letting his other hand drop as well, they both hung limply over the back of the couch, hanging like forgotten socks on a line. Something, something… _ oh_. “Hey Klug?”

“Hm?” Back stiffening, the academic _ really _ didn’t want to explain the depths of his confectionery ineptitude right now. 

“Letting Vi over here… really happy you didn’t say no. Feels better having her around.” He really meant it, too. Having the insect around, even if she wasn’t in his hands, was comforting.

“You… don’t want to bring her upstairs, right?” _ Please don’t let him ask_, the mage flinched internally, incredibly unsettled with the idea of the insect in his room, yet not relishing the prospect of denying Sig the comfort of something that was ultimately harmless.

“Nah, down here’s fine. Seems settled.” 

_ Heavens be praised!.. _ though, there was the matter of getting _ Aya _ settled. Shortly after Sig returned from his errands, the entity became annoyed by the ‘mongrel’s presence and had been relocated to the privacy of Klug’s bedroom again. Not intending to jam the irritating book demon in the breadbox, Klug had to find someplace else workable, somewhere it would be happy or at least vaguely satisfied with. Hesitantly, he mounted the stairs and started to climb. “Ah, if you don’t mind, I… have to take care of something for a moment.”

Seeming perfectly relaxed draped over the sofa, Sig glanced up a tic. “The noisy book?”

“Y-yes. I’d like to avoid what happened last night, so…”

With a tiny wave of encouragement, the entomophile called up after Klug, “good luck~.”

_ Good luck_, the scholar sighed. He could certainly use it. Taking a breath to steady his nerves, he hesitantly opened the door and-

“Oh. It’s you. Yo.” Aya looked up briefly, ‘blinked’, then returned to flipping through an obscenely thick historical volume.

No shouting, no prickling at the edges. _ Why was _ ** _ that_ ** _ so much scarier than Aya being furious?! _ Nervously, Klug sidled up, trying to see exactly what had the little red terror so absorbed. Arcish legends, it looked liked. Apparently, the book-bound soul was feeling nostalgic.

“Y’ know it’s rude to read over someone’s shoulder, kiddo. I guess you get a pass this time since I don’t have any. So? Whadd’ya want?” It swiveled on its ribbon-like base, poking the mage in the nose before settling back, its hands roughly where its hips would’ve been.

“W-well, it’s late, and I intended to let Sig sleep in here, so I thought you’d… rather be someplace else?” His entreaty started normal enough, but rose into a high-pitched squeak near the end. He really, _ really _ wanted to avoid another argument.

Somewhat perplexed, the crimson entity shrugged, muttering something, “I don’t get WHY you’re ceding your room to that mongrel, but whatever, as long as y’ bring this book. Oh yeah, and those other two, too. OH! And the ratty looking novel!” It _ grinned_, giving the impression of teeth even if it didn’t _ technically _ have any, “I finished it, but I _ miiiight _ want to skim it again.”

Now didn’t seem the best time to mention that he had no intention of ‘ceding’ anything, but Klug smoothly slipped a bookmark into the heavy volume before gathering it and the other books into his arms. Any more and he’d have to make two trips. “S-sure. The kitchen table, maybe? It’s spotless, of course.”

“If it isn’t, you owe me a _ fourth _ book, kiddo…”

This was a little closer to how the two normally interacted. Still, the book-bound terror was being a _ little _ more accommodating than normal, probably in a good mood since the mousey bookworm owed it a good _ three _ rare books tomorrow afternoon. Trips to the bookshop tended to smooth its prickliness in general, but the prospect of devastating the human’s savings filled it with a certain twisted sense of glee.

A bizarre, off-balance kind of symbiosis, but one nonetheless.

It wasn’t difficult getting Aya’s space set up. If anything, the book demon had more space than it did on the desktop. After demanding a few pencils and a notebook, it seemed happy enough, shooing the mage away. Maybe it seemed cruel not to offer it some form of light, but the spectre genuinely didn’t _ need _ it, able to read perfectly well in the darkness.

… _ Aya can see in the dark_, Klug realized, remembering the impression that Sig’s glowing red eye gave him last night. Though, he hadn’t _ asked _if his classmate could see in the darkness, not yet. He was kind of hesitant to, uneasy of what that would imply.

Leaving the crimson apparition to its own devices, the mage returned to the living room, prepared to prod Sig awake in order to go to bed. Unnecessary, as the entomophile seemed to be watching over his ladybug friend. Apparently, Vi had to sleep, too, little legs tidily tucked under her armored body. Slightly curious, the mage murmured, “they sleep at night, then?”

“Mhmm,” Sig answered, pointing lazily at the beetle’s tiny black ‘face', “see? Kinda pulls her head in when she rests. Protection.”

Yawning, Klug nodded, “suppose it's time to make like ladybugs, then..?”

“Yeah. Kinda late...”


	17. Crushed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Logic is the heart's worst enemy.

Getting situated hadn't been much trouble. There was enough mattress space that each of them practically got their own side. Still, for whatever reason Sig seemed more comfortable facing the middle of the bed instead of the wall. He wasn't so close as to be breathing down Klug's neck, so the mage really didn't mind.

It was kind of a shame that the bug catcher dropped off so quickly. The mage wouldn't have minded talking just a little bit. He was still curious about that odd glowing eye of Sig's, whether it did anything or was just for show. Sighing, he turned to face the unconscious somnolist, hoping that maybe, just _ maybe _ his friend wasn’t _ quite _ asleep yet, or had stirred for some reason or another. No such luck. “Another time, maybe,” he mumbled under his breath, not that the volume mattered. When Sig was out, Sig was _ out_, full stop.

No surprise, probably, considering how the fool volunteered to listen to his astronomy lecture. It was probably the mental equivalent to horse tranquilizer. That Sig had woken up enough to shamble up here was a minor miracle.

About the chocolate, though… he’d probably been too harsh shutting down the offer of aid outright. Yes, the last time he’d tried had been _ incredibly _ frustrating and a waste of both time and materials, but trying again with some one more experienced, even if only minor, might not be so bad. And… his friend didn’t seem likely to shame him for screwing up if things went awry. He wouldn’t have to worry about being mocked. The more he thought about it, the better the idea seemed. It… might even be _ fun_.

That settled it: tomorrow, Klug would apologize and bring it up again. Hopefully Sig wouldn’t change his mind by morning. Possible, but unlikely. The bug catcher was very consistent, sometimes infuriatingly so. If the offer had been made then it would probably still remain open, even after being rejected.

It felt good, having something to look forward to, even _ if _ it involved someone with such messy-looking hair. Sure, Sig had to comb it in the morning, but for now it was _ still _ everywhere. _ Stars, if it stays like that, _ the mage surmised, _ it’s probably going to get into at least one of his eyes. _

As the scholar reached out, intending to tidy an especially wild section of his friend's fringe, he stopped. He became aware of that strange sensation again. It was a warm feeling, accompanied by a foreign fluttering in his chest. A thought occurred, one which made his fingers curl in foreboding. Everything he'd felt at the library; the strange tension, nervousness, uncontrollable blushing. Then, later getting distracted by... and… and then… the way he felt _ now _…

It hit him like a live fish to the side of the face. This... this was a crush, wasn't it?

The bottom seemed to drop out of his stomach, making him feel oddly hollow apart from the still-present flutteriness.

_ He _ had a crush on _ Sig? _

_ How?! _ How did he, an intellectual adept, manage to get a crush on someone who probably couldn't _ identify _ a ledger, let alone balance one? It was absurd. It was ludicrous! _ Stupid! _

_ Stella lucet... _

... It was true, wasn't it?

_ Why? _ If he tried hard enough, he could try to pin it on their mutual connection to Aya, blame it on outside forces he couldn’t fully comprehend. He could also claim it was academically motivated, out of interest of his friend’s lineage or, at least, his unique physical featu-err, _ characteristics_. Misplaced curiosity, and nothing more.

If he was being honest with himself, it was much simpler. It was probably a product of Sig’s mellow compassion coupled with his own sympathy for the probable hybrid. _ Stars, falling for someone just because they were nice to you, _ that vicious little voice inside his head hissed, _ could _ _ you _ _ be _ ** _any_ ** _ more cliche? _

The trouble of it was that Sig was just good-natured in general. He was at least polite to virtually everyone, Klug included. It didn't mean anything. It wasn't special.

It didn't mean _ he _ was special.

Why couldn't he have fallen for someone who made _ some _ sense like Lemres? While he idolized the Comet Warlock and would give almost anything to earn his praise and respect, it... didn't feel like this. It wasn't the same thing.

He _ wanted _ something very specific from his idol, but what did he want from _ Sig_? Nothing came to mind. Most of the time he saw his classmate as baffling, vexing. Still, there had been some moments so calm, so peaceful this weekend… he’d felt genuinely happy. Being praised for his muffins, passing work back and forth, eating pastries together (it had been dumb luck one just _ happened _ to be his favorite), preparing dinner as an odd but functional team, the sleepy-eyed dolt falling asleep on his shoulder afterwards… he hadn’t hated any of it.

… And none of it probably registered with Sig at all. Sig was quiet but gregarious, and these sorts of things had to happen all the time, _ especially _ the dozing off next to people. It… it was unlikely he’d even _ meant _to lean on Klug's shoulder. It was probably an accident. Probably.

The hell of it was, his feelings hadn’t just cropped up overnight. While his classmate's odd appearance caught his attention almost immediately, following the possession incident he’d always felt an odd tension whenever he was around Sig, especially if they fought. It was difficult to pinpoint the cause, but it was usually there, an undercurrent of mysterious unease.

Then, over a year ago, there had been the ‘crystal’ incident. Unbeknownst to him, the dark wizard from Arle’s world had set up shop in the Crystal Cave _ just before _ he could collect some samples to study. As skilled as Klug was, beating someone of Schezo’s caliber would’ve been hard enough with the proper preparation, but he’d been caught off-guard. The loss was inevitable. Left upset and understandably frustrated, Klug sulked by the entrance for some time, hoping the unwelcome interloper would leave at some point and give him the opportunity to just sneak in and grab a couple. No such luck.

Of _ course_, the cyan-haired idiot just _ had _ to wander by while the mage was wallowing in his own failure, looking at him with those benign cow-like eyes and had asked what was wrong. Sig had just stood there, listening to Klug vent, some horned beetle or other in his mitts that he’d just caught. ‘Oh,’ he’d said, then wandered off in that aimless way of his. It wasn’t long until the bug catcher ambled by _ again_, just saying ‘here,’ and dropping a small handful of crystalline pieces into the battered bookworm’s lap and left without another word. The silence had suited the mage fine: he’d been too stunned to say anything, anyway.

For some stupid reason, the academic didn’t have the heart to use the biggest piece of prismatic stone. It was hardly a gem, but its imperfect surface caught the light in fascinating ways. It was on his windowsill, even now.

If he asked, he doubted Sig would even remember, just one of a myriad of small acts of kindness. The somnolist just… did that sort of thing, sometimes.

This was a _ classic _ one-sided crush. Besides, the entomophile already had a strong connection with Amitie. If they weren't already a low-key couple, it was almost inevitable one would ask the other out. Even if the two were ‘just friends’ and remained that way, just what kind of people did Sig even ‘like’, _ if _ he liked any at all?

It was hopeless. The smitten celestial mage didn't stand a chance.

There was no point in even _ asking_. Rejection was inevitable and asking would only make it hurt more.

Honestly, Klug was so focused on scholastic accolades and achieving success that he'd never given much thought to anything beyond acquaintances. Crushing on _ anyone _ was a shock, gender notwithstanding. 

Drawing his hand back to his own body, he realized there was only one practical course of action open to him; repress the feelings, deny them and wait for them to subside. Anything else would be a waste of time, effort and emotion. After all, a crush was, at its core, infatuation. Infatuations were fleeting, transient things. Good or bad, it would eventually fade and leave him with nothing.

As ironclad an argument as letting the infatuation die was, it didn't help much in the here and now. Giving up would doubtless spare him future embarrassment but he couldn't help feeling miserable anyway.

What… what was he supposed to do now? Cut off all unnecessary contact and avoid the bug catcher? Treat his classmate coldly and push him away?

...No, staying away would make things worse. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, so they say. Exactly who _ they _ were, he had no idea, but it made sense. In fact, hanging out with the blue-haired bubblehead would just provide more evidence as to why they were completely and utterly incompatible.

The idea of spending time with someone, hoping it made you dislike them, potentially _ hate _ them… it was so brutally cynical, even for someone like him. If it worked, even remaining friends would be difficult, maybe even impossible.

_ That _ concept bothered him more than he was willing to admit. Sig was weird, but being friends with him wasn't valueless. Yet, if he hoped to quash these unwanted feelings, their tenuous friendship could easily become nothing more than collateral damage. Broken beyond repair.

_ Radiant heavens, _ he _ needed _a hug right now. Maybe a small one wouldn't hurt. Just a brief, tiny one. It didn't have to mean anything, and besides, they were both friends, at least for now. It...it would be okay, right?


	18. Pressure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's no use in fighting.

Pressure. No pain, just the sensation of being squeezed. It took effort to fight the numbing paralysis of sleep in body and mind, struggling to think or move. Over time, it got easier, but still... _ so _ much effort.

As the rigor subsided so did the haziness that obscured memory and thought. Dark, _ really _ dark... nighttime? Slowly, Sig started to piece together his present circumstances. For unclear reasons, Klug seemed to be clinging onto him. That... probably wasn't a good omen.

"Kururu... y' okay?" He burbled, barely awake, trying to speak through a yawn with no great amount of success. His hanger-on seemed to flinch and stiffen, no doubt startled. Fighting to suppress a second yawn, he gently mumbled, "s' okay, dun' mind."

The mage's unease lessened somewhat, but not entirely, tremulous arms remaining wrapped around the still-groggy Sig. Blinking slowly, the bug catcher waited as his fuzzy vision resolved itself and focused with the glowy crimson orb, looking curiously at his classmate. It wasn't possible to see the scholar's face, lodged as it was against his shirt, but that wasn't necessary to tell there was something wrong. Nightmare-related..? No screaming this time, but that didn’t rule anything out.

"I'm... sorry," came a small, muffled voice, "for waking you up, I mean. It's... it’s late and-"

"Dun' mind." He shifted a little and stretched out nonchalantly, trying to shake off his sleepiness, "doin' okay? Seem kinda upset."

Sighing, the academic muttered something unintelligible under his breath. A few bits did stand out, like 'sorry', 'never mind' and 'hug'.

The last one was simple enough to address. Sig was already being embraced so it took little effort to return the favor. Arms wrapping loosely around his compatriot, he purred in his characteristically calm tone, "Klug, _ Klug, _ s’ okay. Not mad ‘r anything..."

No reply came from the celestial mage, but the trembling seemed to ease. Whatever the cause, the hug seemed to be helping. Was this _ normal _ for Klug? Did this happen all the time? No wonder his peer always seemed so nervous, so jumpy. _ Poor Bunny, _ he sympathized, unconsciously hugging the body in his arms a little tighter, _ has to be hard. _

Soft sniffling. Crying? Why was Klug crying? Even last night, when his friend had been so obviously _ terrified_, the bookworm hadn’t shed any tears. What could’ve done, well, _ this? _ Something bad, obviously, something _ very _ bad.

“Hey, Klug…?”

Again, nothing but a sob stifled in the material of his shirt.

As gently as possible, Sig tried to dislodge the human barnacle. Said barnacle clearly wanted to remain there, but eventually gave up, arms concealing an undoubtedly tear-stained face. It took some genuine effort, but the entomophile managed to get the academic’s arms to lower, earning a glimpse of their owner’s face. The look in those sullen eyes was one he recognized; loss. Of whom or what, he couldn’t begin to guess. Asking would just reopen whatever wound Klug was suffering from. After Vi’s mom, Parma, passed away, every time the beetle was mentioned, whatever the context, just made him hurt all over again. He didn’t want to do that to the bookworm. He didn’t want to make his friend hurt worse.

Instead, he pulled the miserable-looking mage close again, enveloping the sniffling form into as warm and comfortable an embrace as he knew how, and gently crooned, “it’s okay, Bookworm, it’s okay… not alone…”

Perhaps it would’ve been better if Klug _ were _ alone. Deep within the stellar scholar’s gut, the metaphorical knife he’d stabbed into himself jerked and twisted, torn between finding comfort in his friend's concern and guilt for soaking in the undeserved affection. Surely, if Sig knew the source of his anguish, he’d be shoved away. It wasn’t okay, was it? To accept what was given in the spirit of friendship if one’s intentions ran deeper? Sig was just trying to be _ nice_, after all…

_ You really are hopeless, aren’t you? _

Selfishly, Klug kept quiet, wanting to be held in arms that he had no right to be held by. Even as the tears dried, there was still tension in his frame. It just wasn't possible to relax like this. Eyes listlessly staring into nothing, he just seemed… dead. Lifeless.

Eventually, the mage fell asleep in Sig’s arms, unconsciousness easing the stiffness that had refused to drain while awake. The depressed expression still remained, a look of pain twisting a face that was normally so cute. Confused and disheartened, the bug hunter kept holding the still form, wanting to know what had rattled his friend so badly.

Klug always seemed so closed off and independent, like he didn't need or even _ want _ other people around. Some people liked being alone, and that was okay. More and more, though, he suspected that the academic wasn't one of those people. Not entirely, at least.

That could be why he kept the noisy book around, even if it seemed, well, _ mean_.

… Or, the entomophile could be _ entirely _ mistaken about the bookworm. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d made a mistake and it wouldn’t be the last. Still, it was hard _ not _ to get the impression that his host was lonely, at least a little bit, and being lonely could hurt.

There were a few vague memories of seeing his mom cry when he was little. Really, _ really _ little, when the other had been around, the man that he didn’t remember much about. All he _ could _ remember were the tears, and how they’d stopped when she picked him up and held him. He’d asked about the man when he was older, if it was his fault that the person had left. ‘No,’ she’d told him, that it had been ‘inevitable’. It would’ve happened if Sig had been there or not, and that was the truth. His presence had been a comfort, instead.

The somnolist didn’t like seeing people cry, but he had a knack for making them feel a little better. He didn’t mind sitting by in silence, just letting them talk or sob it out if they had to. It wasn’t fun, wasn’t anything he looked _ forward _ to, but there was something satisfying about being supportive.

Sig hoped that, if the academic really needed it, his sense of pride would allow it.


	19. Push-me Pull-you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just come here...

Breakfast was awkward. Absolutely _ silent._

_ Creepy. _ Nibbling at the piece of fruit in his hands, Sig wondered if whatever made the glum-looking mage stick to him last night was responsible… or if it was just fatigue.

“Klug, what’s-”

“Sig, _ please… _ it's nothing, okay? Just eat.” Each time his classmate spoke up, Klug shut the attempt at conversation down. _ It’s not your fault, _ he wanted to say, _ it's just… me. _

… But he didn't trust himself. If Sig asked _ why_, he didn't have a clear answer to give, at least not one suitably innocuous. He couldn't just say, ‘yeah, I’m depressed because I’ve got a crush on you that couldn't _ possibly _ be requited’.

Why, _ why _ did Sig have to be so… _ himself?! _ So concerned about him yet so blind as to how that concern hurt him? _ No, that's not fair, _ the mage lamented, chewing on his breakfast but completely oblivious to its taste or texture, _ it's not his fault that I… _

“Klug-”

“_Sig, _ no. Just… no.” He was conspicuously _ not _ looking at his friend, at his unwanted crush. If the entomophile’s feelings were hurt he absolutely did _ not _ want to see. Sig’s droning voice didn’t tell the mage much but the half-lidded eyes could speak volumes.

The soft whine that came from across the table was bad enough. Klug didn’t want to be hurt, but he didn’t want to hurt Sig, either. Yet… it seemed to be something he was perversely talented at. He had a strong desire to imitate his friend’s ‘disappearing’ act from the library and retreat beneath the kitchen table, but he _ knew _ the stubborn idiot would just follow him, probably hug him and make the pain even worse. But… he almost wanted his classmate to, despite that.

_ For the sake of the heavens, just _ ** _make up your mind_**_! _ Mercilessly, his mind seethed at his waffling. _ Do you _ ** _want_ ** _ to suffer pointlessly? Do you _ ** _like_ ** _ feeling this way? _

“S-shut up,” Klug hissed at himself, not meaning to have _ spoken _ the words, certainly not meaning for them to be overheard…

_ Another _ whine, more plaintive this time. “_Klug_, can’t just-”

“I.. I didn't mean _ you_, Sig. Sorry…” Hoping the bug catcher believed him, he fretted, cursing his tendency to argue with himself. _ Please, _ ** _please_ ** _ don’t feel bad, Sig, I didn’t… _

It was hard to tell whether the somnolist believed him or not, but Sig’s cyan bangs bounced as he nodded anyway. “Mmn. Want a hug?”

“P-pardon?”

“Don’t wanna talk, that’s okay, but you’re… you’re _ not _ okay. Sometimes it's just nice to hang out…”

“I’m… I’m fine…” Klug's voice was weak and utterly unconvincing.

Sighing, the bug hunter shook his head, stood and grabbed the bookworm's wrist, tugging on it solidly. “C’mon, Klug…”

With a high-pitched wail, the scholar had no choice but to scrabble to his feet and follow, convinced that if he didn't, Sig would keep dragging him anyway. “H-hey! What’re you doing?! I was-”

“-Being miserable? Not eating? Can do that here, too.” With a huff, he flopped onto the sofa, taking the captive mage with him. A little drastic, maybe, but remaining in a funk wouldn't _ help_. This… might. Maybe.

Practically sitting in the crazy entomophile’s lap, Klug hissed furiously, scowling as he complained, “y-you can't just drag me wherever you want just because you're stronger than me! You’re so… so… _ frustrating!! _”

“Mmhm. Let go of your wrist already. Leave if you want,” shrugging, the potential demi-demon smiled, “don't mind if you want to stay. Won't ask you anything.”

It was hard to remain outraged at his placid-eyed classmate. Being dragged was irritating but the anger did take his mind off of his dreary mood. It… helped. Hesitantly, he mumbled, “you promise not to ask?..”

“Promise.”

Maybe, _ maybe _ it was okay? It was Sig that tugged him out here, pulled him into his lap. If his friend didn't mind, why shouldn't he lean on the offered shoulder, take comfort in the offered comradery? He wasn't _ making _ Sig hold him. _ Heavens, _it didn't hurt that the bug catcher was so comfortably warm, either…

_ Ugh, you really _ ** _can't_ ** _ make up your mind, can you? _ To be fair, though, Klug hadn't exactly _ dealt _ with these emotions before. He'd had friendships but had never been attracted to someone before. Why now? Why _ Sig? _ Why did this doe-eyed cabbage make him feel safe? Being dragged against his will, he _ should _ feel furious and resentful. Yet… this _ was _ making him feel better. Sighing deeply, his mouth barely moved as he asked, “you’re… not going to do this in public, right?”

“Nah. ‘Less you asked. Figured, here was okay.”

“Good,” Klug couldn't help a tiny smirk as he relaxed, taking easy, untroubled breaths, “it’d be bad for my reputation. Kind of hard being taken seriously if someone keeps dragging you off for snuggle breaks…”

“... Isn’t ‘snuggling', just sitting.”

Flippantly, the scholar’s eyebrow raised, “okay, then _ what _ fits your definition of snuggling, pray tell? This isn't good enough?”

Showing was easier than describing, so the bug catcher hugged the silly mage, nudging his head up a little to nuzzle against his neck. Sig didn't _ do _anything once he did, just breathed softly, the hot air flowing over Klug's shoulder with every exhalation.

Eyes wide with, well, _ something_, the scholar didn't complain, _ couldn't _ complain with the knot that twisted in his throat. That odd fluttery feeling returned as he became entirely too aware of the beating of his own heart, too fast and far too loud. He half expected his friend to notice, to ask him to keep the noise down… but all too soon he was released, no longer being ‘snuggled'. _ It’s over, _ he noted with some disappointment. He hadn't hated it, not at _ all_. 

Calmly, the bug hunter reassessed the bookworm's present condition. A little distracted, maybe, but no longer mired in the pitch-black funk that made even breakfasting a joyless task. Leaving for classes in such a broken state wouldn't have helped the mage and he’d keep worrying about his friend. Nudging Klug's cheek, he piped up hopefully, “hey, wanna finish breakfast? Still have time…”

“Hmm? Oh, right, it's still there, isn't it. Hey, Sig?”

“Yes?”

“Thanks.”

“Sure.”


	20. Chatterbook

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aya certainly likes to hear itself talk...

Though the pervasive sense of misery had lifted, Klug was still… distracted. The sleep he’d gotten the night before had been enough and mercifully dreamless. No dreams meant no nightmares. It wouldn't have been a shock to suffer another night terror, since stress or _ dis_tress reliably dredged up the worst of his memories, the worst of his fears.

It wasn't that he was _afraid_ of Ayashii, exactly. As the little crimson chatterbox was, the entity was largely harmless… and helpless. _Powerless._ _That_ was something the mage understood far too well, a prospect that shook him to his very core. It was why he didn't resent the book-bound demon’s betrayal. All it had wanted was an end to its non-agency, though the way it had gone about it was deeply and utterly wrong.

Being stabbed in the back had hurt, of course, but the lasting rift of mistrust between them was the real wound. Before that chasm had been opened, he wouldn't have necessarily minded a compromise of some sort. Aya had been and still _ was _ something of a teacher. Its knowledge of the arcane was impressive even with its imperfect memory and catty attitude. It certainly knew more about the dark arts than was written in any contemporary volumes, that much was undeniable. Though it wasn't in the mood often, Klug treasured the times when Aya felt generous enough to impart him with knowledge of either spellcasting or tales from before it had been cleaved in two.

Eventually, he hoped, the treacherous crimson entity's understandable hatred of humanity in general would wane. Maybe someday Ayashii would stop thinking of him as a means of transportation and as a _ friend_, instead.

“HEY! What’re ya’ grinning about? Don’t you have somewhere to be? C’mon, the sooner you GET to school the sooner we can leave. Don’t you DARE forget, kiddo, that you STILL owe me-”

“I know,” the mage couldn't help smiling a little. Abrasive at times, but at least the little terror was largely consistent. Its company wasn't always pleasant, but it was what it was. Though, he did wonder why Sig hadn't wanted to walk with him, not that it was any of his business _ what _ his peculiar classmate did. Fist tightening around the strap of his bag, the leather creaked in soft protest, twisting an-

“... Aaand you’re not listening to me AGAIN. What, got that mongrel on your mind or something?” Popping out from the corner of the academic's bag, its jagged ribbon-like body settled behind his shoulder, poking his cheek as it cackled, “worried about him being part demon? Scared he might hurt ya’? It’s TRUE y’ know!”

Annoyed by the prodding but doing his best to ignore it, the dark-mage-in-training rolled his eyes and softly hissed as his shoes scraped the cobblestone walk, “_what's _ true?”

“Some demons DO eat people. Or, y’ know, USED to. Anyway,” it snickered, its eyes narrowing smugly as it batted at the closest golden hat tassel it could reach, “keeping snacks on you wouldn't be the WORST idea.”

“You’re trying to tell me that _ you,” _ an eyebrow raised as he droned out in an incredulous deadpan, “are worried about my well-being? Really, now...”

“Pffft, NO, you just can’t die while y’ still owe me something! Hey, interested in learning a new spell? Two or three new crossword books and it’s yours~!” It warbled cheerfully, still grasping the tassel as it swung like the tail on a kite. 

“You already _ know _ what my answer’ll be…”

“Okay~! So, THIS one-”

Tempted to give the spectre a pat on its ‘head', instead he just smiled indulgently and let Aya prattle on. Now that it wasn't babbling about Sig, its voice in his head was a welcome distraction.


	21. Love..?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Like, maybe, but...

It had seemed a good idea to give the bookworm some space given what had happened at breakfast. Sure, it had _ worked_, but what in the world had compelled him to nuzzle his classmate's neck? Yes, Klug had asked ‘what qualified’ for the term, but he could've just told the mage, instead.

But… it felt right in the moment, and the soapy scent had been so nice.

He hadn't been thinking, just like he hadn't been when he’d swept the scholar off his feet. He didn't exactly _regret_ either action, but he probably shouldn't have done them. Still, he had been curious...

They were friends, even if Klug tended to keep everyone at arm’s length. This weekend, though, the nervous academic had been more, well, _ approachable_. He’d seen some of the boy that lived behind the facade of self-assured arrogance. There was a good but skittish person in there, someone who cared but seemed frightened at the same time. 

He… kind of wanted to see more.

How could he describe it? Like… seeing a common pepper moth, but noticing its rear wings ended in smooth stripes instead of stippled spots. Interesting, but easy to overlook.

He’d already taken the majority of the volumes used for the pair’s project and dropped them off. There was still time before classes so he lingered outside in the sunlight’s warmth. It wouldn't be long before the weather cooled and made it impossible for his ladybug friend to spend time outdoors. So, he watched Vi hover, accompanied by a very excitable Amitie.

Being Sig's closest friend, it didn't take long for her to notice an unusual tension in the way he stood. The normal slack in the way he held himself was totally absent, replaced by an unnatural stiffness. Well, unnatural for _ Sig, _ anyway.

Once the ladybug alighted on his hand, he just stared at Vi with a blank expression on his face. Normally he’d smile at least a little whenever the beetle returned, the tiny hooks of her feet brushing the surface of his skin or grabbing onto his sleeve. Today, _ nothing_.

“So? What’s up, what’s up? Something's bugging you Sig, and not in the good way! I wanna kno~ow!” Amitie pouted, hanging over the railing like a shirt left out to dry.

“Not… really sure.” It was the truth. Parts of this weekend had been really nice, but ultimately he was confused over just what had happened last night. Sighing, he ran a fingertip over Vi’s shell, petting the pretty beetle as she preened her antenne.

“C’mon, it has to be something! I’m gonna keep asking until you answer!”

Pushy, but sometimes Ami had to be to get something out of him. It might’ve seemed mean, but it did help sometimes. “Fine. Don’t tell anyone, but… kinda slept with Klug, today he’s acting weird. Not sure why.”

Amitie’s arms windmilled as she tried to keep from pitching over the rail, a huge grin on her face when she finally achieved balance again. “W-woah! For really real?! You, and him?! And he?! And you?! Omigoshomigoshomi-”

'Tenne standing up as he realized how that sounded, Sig tried to interject, “u-um, sleepover? That kind, not... “

Immediately deflating, the bubbly blonde stuck out her tongue, boo-ing, “sheesh, _ Sig_, way to burst _ that _ bubble. It was _ really _ exciting thinking you might’ve been in love or something! That would’ve been _ neat-o_!”

“... Don’t… really get it. _ Why? _”

“I dunno, I just think it’d be fun seeing a friend in love, y’ know?”

‘In love’? He mulled the idea around. No, he cared about the mage and felt oddly interested, but love… love was _ deep_. It was like a bond, and a bond unshared meant practically nothing. _ Like, _ maybe, but...

Blinking, Sig shook his head, petting the ladybug again. “No. ‘Sleeping with’ isn’t always ‘love’, anyway…”

“Aww, don’t shatter a maiden’s dreams, meanie!”

“What maiden?”

Pouting _ again, _ Amitie’s hands went to her hips as she claimed, “_me! _ Or I guess Vi counts, too, since she’s a girl. She’s probably disappointed, too!”

_ That _ earned a soft chuckle. Letting the insect crawl up his arm and settle on his sleeve, he smiled at his friend. Ami had heart, even if she could be easily derailed. “So, he’s acting weird. Don’t know why.”

“Isn’t Klug _ always _ weird? Y’ know, maniacally laughing, always buried in books, following Lemres like a lost puppy?..”

“Might’ve done something wrong,” he shrugged his non-bebeetled shoulder, “was just kind of nice before… morning.” _ And the night before, _he kept to himself, not willing to mention Klug’s weeping.

“Well? Well? What happened this morning? Was he really mean or upset or what?”

“Mhn, just real quiet. Looked sad.” Idly, he ran a claw over the surface of the canvas bag hanging from his hip. “Seems a little better _ now_, still not normal, though.”

Green eyes blinking curiously, her blonde curls bounced as she hopped up on a low section of brickwork, plopping down and kicking her legs. Patting the concrete cap, she invited her friend up with her.

“Maybe it's got something to do with you carrying him around? I mean, he seemed kinda weird _ then _…”

Sig groaned softly as he shifted up onto the hard surface, hands settling between his knees. “Maybe, seemed okay later. Already tried asking. Dunno what to do…”

“Wow. Um, Sig? This’s bothering you a lot, huh? You sure you _don’t_ have just a teeny, _ tiny _crush on him?”

Did he? How was he supposed to _ know_, especially if he’d never had one? Genuinely curious, his hair-tenne pricked up as he pried, “not sure. How d’ they feel?”

“W-well I don’t know how to describe it! It’s just, like, a feeling you have, and, um, yeah!” Excited and flustered at the same time, she slid off the wall and started bouncing on her feet, arms swinging energetically.

“... Never had one?”

“_Aaaaah!! _ I-I never said I was an expert! If you have one then you get to tell me! It’d be awesome!”

_ Hasn’t had one_, he concluded, trying to think of who _ might _ have. Well, who he could actually _ ask_, anyway…

_ Tricky _…

“_Oh! _W-w-ait! Weren't you and the girl onion pixie…”

“Oniko..?”

“Yeah! Her!”

“Um… no. Not asking her.” Oniko had finally stopped sending him letters a few months ago and talking would risk sparking her interest _ again_. Toying with the pixie’s heart was just… wrong.

“But she _ totally _had a crush on you! Like, um, what, three times?!”

“... Ami, no.”

“Aww, but now I'm all curious and _ totally _wanna know what it’s like!!”

“Could get one yourself,” he did a one-shouldered shrug again, a small smile on his face, “wouldn't be hard. You’re nice, Ami…”

“_Aaah!! _ F-fiddlesticks, I lost track a’ time! We're gonna be _ laaaate_!”

It wasn't _ that _ late, but Amitie rushed off ahead anyway, leaving Sig to slowly shake his head and chuckle. _ Yep, Ami’s still Ami. _


	22. Bound Soul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's just Aya being Aya.

The school day passed by as an indistinct blur for the aspiring dark mage. Notes taken automatically, lessons barely observed but passed through, lunch consumed but not truly experienced… nothing really stood out, which was fine. Perfectly _ fine_. Klug had met his scholarly obligations and now he had other fish to fry.

The little red snapper of a book demon didn't seem to notice, giddy enough to have its human pet carry it wherever in the bookstore it wanted to go. The bespectacled nitwit didn't even complain particularly loudly either time Ayashii had let a book slip from its semi-corporeal fingers, unceremoniously bouncing off of the kid’s hat. The first time had been a genuine accident: the second was on purpose, just to see if it would provoke a response. Well, whatever, as long as he paid for the books the bound spirit wasn't all that concerned.

Frankly, the scholar just wanted to get home, bundle all the remaining books from the pairs assignment and get them safely returned. After that… well, _ stars willing_, he’d finally be able to accomplish what he’d had his heart set on _ all day_. That being, a few moments of one librarian’s time, the librarian who happened to be a demon. Or, if Aya was to be believed, one’s soul wearing the costume of a stuffed bear. Even so, Akuma was no less of a demon than the little red chatterbox.

… And home he went. Once Ayashii was happily situated, Klug grabbed a small snack for himself. It wouldn't do to be distracted by an empty stomach, he figured. Though Akuma wasn't a teacher, he was _ still _ an authority figure… and a somewhat unpredictable one at that. Just the thought of those _ teeth _ made him slightly nervous. He’d never been close enough to tell for certain whether they were plush like the rest of the librarian’s body or ‘real', and preferred it _ remain _ a mystery.

“WHAT? You’re leaving me here? Klu~ug,” the little entity whined, flopping over atop its stack of freshly-purchased books, “if you keep doin’ this I’m gonna get a complex and it’ll be ENTIRELY your fault.”

Carefully packing away the research books that Sig hadn’t already taken, the mage shook his head, not looking up from his work. “It's not for pleasure. Besides, don’t you dislike being around Akuma for reasons _ other _ than extending your due date?”

“Ugh, PLEASE don't remind me. I hate how my prison is TECHNICALLY that stupid library's property. It’s humiliating.”

Klug _ never _ forgot that fact. He’d asked about purchasing the acerbic little book demon's tome numerous times but it was out of the question. Money just… wasn't _ enough_. Still, at least he hadn't been prevented from constantly extending the loan duration. _ Discouraged, _yes, but never forbidden.

It was inconvenient and pointless, but after doing it for years it had simply become part of his routine.

If only he could find Ayashii a new home that didn't require anyone losing a body, then it could be free of _ that _ indignity, at least. The Precise Museum owned the volume itself, but surely they couldn't lay claim to the soul trapped within it. Still, that kind of magic was exceedingly rare in these times. Sealing spells of the sort that trapped Aya were, after all, _ incredibly _ unethical.

Simply destroying a demon seemed less a cruelty than tearing it apart and sealing those pieces away for potentially _ centuries. _ While Ayashii had continued to exist, much of that time had been spent alone in a dust-covered prison. _ Stars, _ it couldn't even recall its original _ name _ anymore.

“I’m sorry,” Klug mumbled with a heavy sigh, “I'm not trying to rub it in…”

“Eh, I’ve been stuck like this for awhile. What’s a few MORE centuries, y’ know?” The (presumably) once-proud demon's soul busied itself trying to balance one of its new crossword books on the points of its ‘head', but the flimsy thing just slid over top of its insubstantial body and swallowed it like a bookmark. “YOU didn't do this to me. Neither did bear-butt, though you’d THINK he’d feel some sympathy for the disembodied!”

Ayashii’s sense of humor was somewhat twisted, but at least the odd red entity still had one. Carrying on as though it wasn’t wearing a paperback like an overcoat, its tiny arms peeked out, gesticulating as it sometimes did.

Someday, Klug would be able to repay the strange demon's soul for all its company, making the big house seem less empty with its sometimes inane chatter. Somehow, _ without _ sacrificing Sig.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still around! The next chapter left me stymied for a while, but it's figured out now.


	23. Libearian

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Akuma-hem..!

Klug stood before the impressive-looking museum/library, the straps of his leather bag creaking beneath his nervously kneading fingers. Usually he didn't think twice about the stately building with its pillars and heavy stonework, but today it felt… imposing. He rarely asked anything of its keeper. Akuma was unpredictably boisterous, something the mage wasn't particularly fond of. If the demon was always loud and energetic, _ okay, _ he could learn to tolerate that, but the bear's manner was usually one of eerie calm. Having that broken by a spontaneous fit of yelling seriously startled him. Still, if he was to learn what he wanted to know… well, Akuma was his best bet.

Hesitantly, he made his way inside, greeted by the distinctive 'library' scent, one of countless paper volumes of varying ages and wood polish that protected the many surfaces from age and use. Coming up to the counter, he undid the strap of his satchel, retrieving the neatly packed volumes inside. Sliding the books toward the plush-bodied figure behind the expansive surface, the mage's mind raced as he tried to order his thoughts, thinking of the right way to ask what he needed to.

Meanwhile, the libearian languidly pulled each volume close to himself, consulting the lending list and checking each book off as he read the titles. An antiquated style of record keeping, perhaps, but it worked. "I trust you successfully a-kumapleated your project? Young Sig delivered the other tomes this morn, save The Glossary of Obscure Magical Terms. That is in the care of Miss Amitie, for the time being…"

"Hm? O-oh, yes, that's… good to know. Ah, sir," the purple-clad academic fidgeted, running his fingers absentmindedly over some of the brass findings of his own bag, "I… w-well, there was something that I, ah, wanted to _ ask _ you. You're aware of Sig's, ah, _ condition. _Might you have an idea to the cause..?"

The bear's dead eyes stared in his direction, but it was impossible to tell if Akuma was looking _ at _ him or not. Adjusting his monocle, the ursine form calmly spoke, though the voice sounded oddly heavy… maybe even tired. "What is the nature of your interest in such a topic, if I ku-may know first?"

"It's… w-well, it's apparently been bothering him for some time. I… I was hoping to find out more. Even if nothing can be done about it, just knowing the cause would be, ah, helpful?" Hopefully, the mage smiled, though it looked more a grimace on his anxious face. "There's some, well, chance it may be related to his parentage…"

“Kum-ahem… perhaps a matter of this nature would be better addressed in private.” The floating entity's white plush moustache twitching, Akuma sort-of invited, sort-of ushered the curious student away from the desk to a lonely hallway set off to the side, past thick wooden doors engraved with such mundane legends such as ‘broom closet’ and ‘auxiliary storage’. Nestled at its end was a similarly labeled door with a brass plate reading ‘director'.

Its owner pressed down the levered knob and the heavy door opened inward soundlessly. It seemed odd to Klug that such an imposing barrier didn't shriek ominously, the hinges protesting under the considerable weight of such an undoubtedly thick, ancient piece of carpentry work. It would've added to the atmosphere considerably. The inside was appropriately shrouded in darkness, feeding his tension where the door had failed to. A gentle but firm paw pressed into his back, ushering him into the unknown void.

The void was dispelled almost immediately by a half-dozen strategically placed lamps flaring suddenly to life. Magic, obviously. Apparently Akuma preferred their warm ambience to conventional lighting.

Settling behind a well-worn antique desk, the librarian gestured a pink-padded paw toward the two open seats set before it. Feeling increasingly uncomfortable, the student mage did as he was instructed to, settingly into one of the similarly old chairs, almost jumping as it protested with a soft creaking groan.

_ Everything _ in the small office seemed to be similarly ancient, the wood surfaces worn but well-maintained and clean. For the way the books were neatly set and arranged within each bookcase it was obvious the bear demon took great care in their organization. Truly, Akuma seemed well-suited to managing the countless volumes of the Museum's library.

Still… did the enigmatic navy-colored bear _ have _ to keep staring silently at him with those lifeless eyes? Stuffed paws steepled, the demon looked down on him, _ through _ him, as though contemplating something far too deep and complex for him to grasp. Quietly, Klug cleared his throat, shifting in his hard wooden seat.

“Why,” the bear’s deep, calm voice broke the stagnant silence, “are you interested in young Sig's condition or possible lineage? As a ku-matter of policy, if such personal details are available, sharing them with a third party is not permitted…”

Startled by the sudden noise, the scholar jumped in his seat, struggling to stay calm as the authority figure questioned him. At least Akuma’s request was reasonable. Shakily, Klug took a breath to calm himself, and timidly answered, “_whatever _ its cause, Sig's been, w-well, preoccupied over his left arm. He's _ scared, _s-sir. An explanation could possibly ease his fears.”

“Indeed. Yet, you make an assumption that your classmate's situation is a result of a mixed bloodline. What makes you so certain that this is the case..?”

“I… well, that is,” the mage shifted, wriggling a little, “I have an outside source that's absolutely certain, s-sir. They… they claim that demons can recognize their own…”

“Yet you do not trust their opinion?”

“Tch! W-well, it’s… this is too important a matter to trust a single opinion! If their claim of being able to detect one another is true, well, if Sig _ did _ have some demon in him then you’d know, correct?”

“You make many akum-assumptions.” The ursine doll shifted a bronze trinket around the desk with his soft looking but massive stuffed paw. “Is it _ necessary _ to know for certain? Could you _ not _ reassure your friend without knowing what he is or is not?”

“I… I _ am _ trying, sir, but not knowing the cause of his, ah, _ condition _ limits what I can do. Please…”

“... Would that knowledge influence your opinion of him? One with your curious nature is surely aware that people tend to fear what is not readily understood.”

Klug slowly nodded. Historically, humanity had been at odds with Akuma and those like him. Just as some people were cruel or ruthless, so too were some demons. That handful poisoned the perception of their kind, sparking pain and tragedy. “I… am aware, sir. Whatever his bloodline, Sig will remain, well, _ Sig. _ I just… I want to help. It hurts, knowing he’s so worried. _ Stars, _ he’s done nothing to deserve that!”

“Indeed. Tell me, young one, are you ma-fraid of me? You seem uncomfortable…”

“Tch! W-well, that is… no. No, I’m not. I’m just… just not used to requesting things from authority figures. It’s… awkward.” The mage let out a sigh of resignation, toying with the brass buttons of his shirt sleeve. “If you won’t or can’t answer, fine, I’ll keep doing what I can. I apologize for taking up your time.”

Adjusting his monocle, the costumed demon regarded the disheartened-looking student seated before him. It was true that the bear knew of Sig's particular issue, but not the depths to which it troubled the student. Akuma had intended to take the young one aside at some point but the right opportunity had never presented itself. Perhaps… involving one of his peers…

_“Akuma-_**_hem._** This 'source' you mentioned… would I be correct in saying it was the book-bound one..?"

The way Klug froze up said everything the elder soul needed to know. He'd hoped that this particular 'complication' wouldn't crop up, but it was, he supposed, inevitable. Perhaps if that tome were removed from the young one's hands… but, it was common knowledge that Klug was fond of it, or more accurately, its _ contents_. Being pried apart would likely drive the bibliophile to desperate, even dangerous means to re-acquire it. Shoulders sinking in an imitation of a sigh, Akuma regarded the increasingly agitated young mage, lying his stuffed paws flat upon the stately wooden desktop. This, he hoped, would foster a less threatening facade.

"Be at ease, child. I'm quite aware of that volume's resident. Provided they cause no ill, it is akum-acceptable to reside in your care… as long as the loan is renewed, of course." The bear tried for a stitched-on grin, a hollow-sounding chuckle coming from somewhere unspecific. "Ku-hu-huumm… _ indeed_. In answer to your inquiry, you're correct. Your classmate is mostly human, yes, but possesses a… mixed bloodline. Of greater import is that blue entity. It is, as you are likely akum-aware, a fragment of a demon's soul."

Though the mage had been wary of accepting Ayashii's counsel alone… Akuma's confirmation left no room in his mind for doubt. His breath hitched, catching in his throat as he nodded shakily. He'd wanted, no, _ needed _ to know… but what was he to _ do _ with it? Sig… how was he supposed to let Sig know, _ tactfully? _This required a great deal of care, something that Klug wasn't exactly the best suited to provide. His eyes betrayed his worried thoughts even if he remained silent as a mouse.

"... It is a difficult subject to broach, yes, hence why it has not yet been done. Should you feel inadequate for the task, do not fret. There is no shame in that," the librarian spoke softly, stuffed moustache bobbing in a mimicry of a mouth, "if you would be kind enough to point young Sig here, I can akum-advise him in your stead. That… was what had originally been planned. Still, the words might seem less dire coming from a _ friend _ instead."

"... I… I see." The celestial mage took in a long breath and blinked repeatedly, trying to marshal his thoughts. "And, the arm? Might you have any idea why it, ah, is the way that it is? Before arriving here… he said it was normal, sir. My, um, 'source' believes it's an effect of maturing, but…"

Shaking his cotton-filled head, Akuma settled back into the space behind the desk. "Unfortunately, such details are unknown to me. There is not but one kind of demon, child, as there is not but one kind of human being. Similarities exist, but our kind were, ah, _ are _ varied. In young Sig's case… matters are yet _ further _ obscured…"


	24. Buzzing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some thoughts just don't like sitting still.

As much as Sig's attention tended to wander during classes, today hadn't been one of his better days. Voices seemed to buzz in the background in an indistinct drone as he'd drawn various exoskeletal beauties in his well-worn notebook, encroaching from the margins to the pages proper. He'd wanted the real thing, to feel Vi's hook-like feet wandering from finger to finger, the insect's presence making it easier not to focus on that which troubled him. Maybe it would've helped him listen at least a little to… um… whatever Professor Accord had been talking about? During classes, however, his chitinous friend had to remain safely inside of her carrier. _ Frustrating… _but at least she could remain close, though not in his hand as he'd like.

This time, it hadn't been the wasp's nest of his arm situation sitting in the forefront of his mind. Klug's weird behavior had him… _concerned._ Every time he closed his eyes (something he did quite frequently) he couldn't get the sad whimpering out of his head, and worse, those big green eyes full of hurt and tears. Asking directly was unlikely to net him a satisfying answer, or more likely, just cause his nervous friend to shut him out and stubbornly rebuff any attempts at further conversation. That wouldn't ease any of the pain the mage seemed to be feeling. In fact… it would probably make it worse.

… Not that Sig knew exactly what to ask in the first place. His ability to comfort others began and ended with being a warm shoulder to cry on.

Listlessly, his fingers drummed on the desk's hard surface, just enough to earn an audible 'tap' but not enough to carry. He'd… gotten reprimanded for it more than a couple of times, either by the Professor or his classmates. It _really_ drove Wuffina up the wall, especially on test days. Normally, she'd be polite but firm, knowing he didn't mean any harm. Once, though, she'd snapped at him, furious to the point of a flying cane smacking down on her desk and being sent outside to cool down. Later, the pink-haired girl had sought him out, fretfully apologizing and going on about how unladylike her outburst had been, tugging on her kerchief and explaining how stress over studying led to sleeplessness. Already irritable from fatigue and the spectre of failure hovering over her shoulder, the repetitive noise brought out something ugly, abuse he didn't deserve. It made sense. Stress… _ did _ things to people, almost none of them good.

Ordinarily, Wuffina was, well, _nice_, despite what some unkind whispers behind her back claimed. She and Sig spoke pretty often, letting him share whatever pretty new insects he had at the time. The shiniest ones seemed to impress her the most, the ones that glittered like treasures in the sunlight. And, well, he was good at being an extra set of hands for the odd project. Repetitive actions like stirring didn't bother him, either, and freed Fina for more involved tasks. Their friendship wasn't quite the same as the one he shared with Ami, but it didn't have to be.

He considered Klug a friend, too, though not as close as either of the girls. Bookworm always seemed so busy, as though the mage operated on a constant schedule. Sig wouldn't have been entirely shocked if that were true. Though… the celestial mage _had_ made time this weekend to help him, even if it _ was _ just for the sake of the school project. The gleeful look on his classmate's face upon brainstorming just how to help him would've been cute, if not for the borderline maniacal laughter.

While the glasses-wearing scholar's mood had improved since morning, the brunette had kept busier than usual, buried in one of his numerous tomes. Nothing that any of the book lover's classmates did or said today prompted much more than a soft mumble or a noncommittal shrug. Not mad or angry, Klug just seemed… distracted. If the bespectacled student hadn't been so squeamish around insects, Sig would've asked if he'd like a caterpillar to borrow, something slow and soft and calming to hold and take his mind off of whatever was (to use a phrase), _ bugging him_.

When he hadn't been puzzling over his friend's actions following yesterday's nocturnal breakdown, the somnolist couldn't help thinking about his conversation with Amitie before school. While he was pretty sure that he didn't have a crush on the quiet, easily-spooked brunette, he couldn't say that for certain since he'd never had one... at least that he _ knew _of. Was it possible to have one and not notice?

His closest personal experience was Oniko's one-sided on-and-off infatuation with him. She'd sent him several letters, sort of, usually blank with the scent of onion clinging to the page, but sometimes there were crude attempts at drawing. The pixie probably didn't know how to write, but she'd tried it anyway… sweet, kind of, if the little creature didn't already have a boyfriend. The only letters Sig wrote were for family or almost-family.

_ Ghh, _ he really was out of his depth with this kind of thing, and as tempting as it was to sweep the entire business aside with all the other subjects he tried not to think about… he couldn't bring himself to ignore it. Did _ that _ mean something? If only he could just ask Klug, and get an answer…

Thinking about it, maybe he _ could. _ If he could have a crush without being aware of it, the opposite might be true. There were plenty of things other people seemed to notice that he didn't. In a way, it almost made some kind of sense.

Even if he couldn't get a satisfying answer, the bug catcher kind of wanted to find the bookworm, anyway. Surely it wouldn't hurt to check up on Klug, just to be sure he was okay… or as okay as his classmate _could_ be.


	25. Orchids and Parma

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sig reminisces about an old friend while waiting for another.

Tracking down a bookworm was, at its core, like stalking any other prey. Certain places made ideal habitats for particular species and given the nature of his classmate… well, it made for a short list. The Precise Museum's library was the closest likely spot, so he'd wandered over to investigate.

Even if Klug was a no-show, he'd been meaning to poke around the flowerbeds set up around the impressively large building, curious to see if the orchids had attracted anything of interest. Mainly, mantids. The standard iconic green ones were plentiful most anyplace with densely packed, tall grasses, but different habitats dictated different camouflage. Hymenopus coronatus were especially pretty, white with hints or pink or brown and petal-like flanges on each walking leg to better mask their presence among the flowers. The insects they stalked probably never realized the hunter's presence until it was too late. With such powerful jaws, their prey likely never suffered for long.

… At least _ his _ quarry didn't have to worry about being bitten, Sig thought to himself, a small smile plying his otherwise neutral expression. Unlike the mantis, he didn't stalk things to feed himself, and took great care not to harm whatever found itself ensnared by his net. Though… Klug wouldn't fit inside of the one he _ usually _ carried. Maybe just catching the bookworm's hat would be enough.

He hummed softly as he ambled, keeping an eye out for small movements or larger flashes of purple, Vi perched safely on his shoulder. Despite the ladybug's size, she was deceptively light, her weight barely registering through his sleeve. Always so calm, just like her mom had been. Parma had had several clutches during her long life, but Vi had never strayed too far afield the patch of viola lutea where she'd hatched. The flowers grew fairly close to his house, so he'd been able to watch the wiggly little larvae feed and grow into healthy, fat pupae before finally becoming the hard-shelled adults that most people associated with the species.

Most of her siblings had flown to find new hunting grounds as soon as their wings had dried, but Vi seemed content just where she was, though sometimes she'd venture into the milkweed to stalk aphids or other soft-bodied insects for food. While the beetle probably would've wintered just fine, he'd taken the pretty creature inside, securing a few new plants for the aphid colony he used to keep Parma fed and happy during the cold season.

It turned out for the best… Parma had passed away of old age the following spring. She'd been nearly _ four, _ quite a respectable age for a ladybug. Vi hadn't been meant as a replacement, but her presence had been welcome during that difficult time. The beetle was familiar with him and didn't seem to mind spending time indoors or inside a carrier. The younger coccinellid _ did _ have a stubborn streak that her mom had lacked, sometimes refusing to unhook her little claws whenever she felt especially comfortable. His left shoulder, usually, probably fond of its warmth.

At least it was good for _ something. _

Upon arriving outside of the Museum, he considered going inside, but the building wasn't exactly _ small. _ There were so many potential places for a bookworm to hide, and even if his elusive quarry was present it'd be easy for them to pass each other. He elected to linger around the entrance, instead, keeping an eye on the doors _ and _ letting him watch the swaying flowers for suspicious movements.

Hopefully, he'd find at least one thing he was looking for.


	26. Got One!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Do you stick bookworms in jars or pin and mount them..?

Lost in thought, Klug literally hadn't known _ what _ had hit him. One moment, he'd been fine, exiting the library and fretting over just what to _ do _with his greater understanding of Sig's 'problem'. The next, he'd found himself draped in mesh, collared and unable to escape even if he'd wanted to. If not for the arm catching him abruptly in the sternum, he probably would've smacked into the unforgiving cobbles, breaking his glasses or potentially worse. Temporarily shocked into silence, he peered up at his captor/savior, staring at a very familiar cyan mop of hair that the netting over his eyes couldn't hope to hide.

...Of _ course. _ It just _ had _ to be Sig, didn't it?

_ Sigh. Why _ did he have a crush on such an odd person..? Did his subconscious _ want _ him to be in a state of perpetual annoyance? Did it really hate him that much?

Yet… he couldn't quite bring himself to hate the face that looked so pleased to see him, mismatched eyes catching the sunlight and seeming to glitter. Ah well, it wasn't as though he'd been hurt by Sig's unorthodox greeting. With a sigh, the mage mumbled, "you, ah, don't expect to keep me in this all day, do you..?"

"Hm? Oh, um, sorry," the bug catcher's smile faltered a little as he blinked in rapid succession, as though he'd just awoken from one of his numerous naps. Still lending the bespectacled one an arm for balance, Sig neatly extricated his catch from the net, somehow managing not to knock the purple cap to the ground, though it sat at a slightly skewed angle. "Kinda wanted t' talk…"

"... And do you _ usually _ capture people you intend to chat with, or did you consider me a flight risk or something?"

"Mmh, nah," the sleepy-eyed boy seemed to purr, either taking Klug's statement for the joke that it was, or glossing over it in full, "tried finding mantids, didn't wanna just sit and wait."

Straightening out his cap and smoothing the fabric of his shirt sleeves, the academic's brow knit as he considered what he'd just heard. Sig… was waiting for _ him? _ Maybe his spacey classmate had forgotten something over the weekend and wanted it returned. That made the most sense. "I-I see. What did you need so badly that you'd ambush me for it, then?"

A soft, humming sound exited his classmate's mouth, as though the somnolist were still trying to put thoughts to words. Sig didn't seem the type to choose words or phrases with any degree of care, so the deliberate pause proved… disconcerting. Already uneasy, the mage felt on the verge of panic even before his friend's mouth opened again.

"Um, kinda wondering… ever had a crush before? Trying t' figure something out."

Klug's heart seized, just short of coming to an audible grinding halt. _ What?! _ Where had _ that _ come from, apropos of nothing?! Frantically, he combed his memories of the previous day, if he'd said or done anything too blatantly _ forward. _ He… he _ did _ zone out at one point, distractedly leaning his head against… against Sig's bare chest oh why had he _ done _ that of all things and the hugging _ nocte stella _now the bug hunter probably thought poorly ofhimwhydidthi--

_ "What?! _ Why are you… why ask _ me, _ of all people?!" The anxious tension resurfaced with a vengeance, rendering his last words as more a breathless gasp than speech. It wasn't _ possible, _he knew, that the blue-haired ruffian had the faintest idea that… that he…

"Mhmm? You know a lot about other stuff. Figured asking wouldn't hurt." With a simple shrug, Sig carried on murmuring, the ridiculously large ladybug perched ominously atop the boy's head, its beady compound eyes staring in judgement. "Coulda read something, if y' haven't, so…"

Of… of course. It had been foolish to suspect that Sig… yeah. Shoulders collapsing as the string of tension was brutally and inevitably severed, the purple-clad scholar let out an unbelievably heavy sigh. It was common knowledge that one _ never _ asked one's potential interest for guidance. But… he could see someone like his classmate not knowing something like that. What should be obvious often caught the good-natured simpleton off-guard.

Wait, was he _ really _ disappointed that Sig hadn't..? If anything, he should be _ thankful _ of the cyan-haired halfwit's obliviousness. It spared him having to explain…

"I… haven't anything to say about that sort of thing, no," Klug muttered quietly, sighing as he fussed with his shirt cuff. "Sorry to disappoint you. If that's all you wanted of me, I've wasted your time."

"Nhm-mm, isn't. You okay? Sound… sound really sad…"

"N-no, I just… have a lot to work on, you understand. So, if you'd be so kind as to excuse me, I…"

The twin tufts giving a subtle twitch, the bug catcher's head tilted as he softly droned, "um… bag looks kinda empty. Klug… what's wrong?"

_ "N-nothing!" _ Caught in a lie, the nervous mage's breathing became much too fast, too shallow to supply him with enough air to- "I… I left my things at… at home, so I need to… _ leave?" _

"... Mad about the net?" Mismatched fingers clutching at the light wooden pole, Klug worried that if he stayed quiet, they'd grip tightly enough to _ break _ the thing.

"No, that was… okay. I'd prefer not to be 'caught' in the future, but I'm not angry or… or anything." That much, at least, was true. It would've been different if Sig had actually _ hurt _ him, but as it was, he could offer the partial demon genuine words of reassurance. Seeing his friend looking so crestfallen… he couldn't stomach it. He clamped down on his growing anxiety, if only to spare himself from further concern levied by his classmate.

He didn't want pity, _ especially _ from Sig.

He didn't deserve any.


End file.
